that playground
by indrotuction
Summary: Sam and Blaine had been best friends since they could remember. It all started on that playground, and it all ended sometime during the beginning of high school. When Blaine transfers to McKinley, Sam acts as if he never knew him. this is the story of their friendship from start to finish and everything in between. And the day they fell out.
1. Chapter 1

July 17th 2003

Sam Evans likes to go to the playground to, well, play. He had always thought 'playground' was a very fitting name for it. There was a playground a couple blocks down the street and just around the corner from his house. It was by far Sam's favorite playground. The twisted slide was like a big purple snake, and the building was liked like a pirate ship made from colorful metal poles. Pirates had been Sam's favorite game to play, but there was no one to play with, ever. He was content, though, being the captain of the S.S. play ship with invisible—not made up or fake—pirates to swab the decks.

Today was like every other day. The hollowing wind was the only thing making a sound alongside the occasional chirp of an optimistic bird. Smiling brightly down on the open area was the sun. Trees, Sam thought they looked like Christmas trees, trapped the whole playground except for the one side. Being the genius that he was, Sam always went to the playground using that side. The grass, though, that the playground sat upon wasn't really that green. It looked like all brown and shriveled. The eight year old boy ran around; his blonde hair flashing a smile back at the sun. His smile broadened to the size of the Atlantic Ocean, as he commanded pirates to fire the canons, hoist the sail and find the missing treas-arrr.

It had started out like any other day, but then it wasn't like any other day. A boy, _a very tiny boy_ Sam thought, scuffed his feet along the grass until he reached the swing set. The boy's brown hair was tangled much like vines in a wild jungle. Sam smile was the mass of the world by now, for finally he could have a non-invisible person scrub his deck. Sam was off the playground as if it burned him.

"Hello, I'm Sam the captain of the S.S. play ship would you like to come abroad?"

The little boy kept his eyes trained on the grass below, as he mumbled, "Are you asking me to play with you?"

The big smile on Sam's face was not-so big now, but it was still stapled to his face. "Why of course mate!" Sam had replied.

"No one ever wants to play with me."

"Not even your friends?" Now Sam was confused. Everyone has friends, right? Just like he was friends with Noah Puckerman, Mike Chang and, oh Sam always forgets his name, Finn Hudson.

"I don't have any friends. My family just moved here yesterday."

If Sam had a lightbulb in his head, it would have glowed so blindingly bright. Sam exclaimed, "That's not true! You have one friend."

"Who?" his voice soft.

"Me, silly!"

The curly haired boy looked up, and his eyes expanded like they were being pumped with air. Hazel eyes was the only thing that flooded Sam's vision, well, that and the black and blue surrounding it. Sam's jaw had hit the grass, and he mirrored the boy's blown-up eyes. "Wow, you look like a puppy," his whisper dripped with awe.

"I-Is that a good thing?" the other boy stammered, as his eyes flew back to the ground.

"Yeah, it's, like, a really, _really_ awesome thing."

"Oh okay." The boy looked up. "Sorry, I forgot my manners, my name is Blaine Anderson by the way."

Shaking the outstretched hand, Sam crunched his eyebrows together in confusion, "Why do you need manners?"

"I don't really know. My father's always telling me to have them."

"So…" Sam drew out. "Did you want to play?"

"You're my friend right?" Sam bobbed his head vigorously nearly giving himself whip lash. "Well then I'd love to play with you, friend Sam. I do have a request."

Sam's previously smile had returned to greet them. "What?"

"Can we play superheroes instead?" Sam smiled so hard it could have hurt. What a smart idea. Why hadn't Sam though of that? He loved reading comic books. He loved watching superhero movies. He loved watching superhero television shows as well. They could play X-men, but Sam would have to be-

"Can I be Wolverine?" Blaine asked timid like a bunny chatting up a wolf. Sam guessed he could settle with being cyclops today. Once Blaine had stood up, he was being yanked into an embrace by Sam's tiny arms.

"Why are you hugging me?"

"I don't know… to, like, prove that we are friends. It sort of like a shake, but more cushiony."

"My father prefers to shake my hand over hugging."

They played until the sun's smile had disappeared behind the horizon, and stars blinked at them. Sam's mother came around eventually to snatch, and drag him back to the house for supper. Blaine scuffed his way back to his own house with his first smile in a long time.

When Sam had reached his house, his mouth moved endlessly. His babblings of Blaine never stopped. _He loves superheroes just as much as me. He talks so—what's the word—professionally. He looks like a little puppy. I want to play with him right now! I could play with him forever._

August 7th 2003

After many long days spent at the park chasing away invisible villains, Sam had invited Blaine over to play at his house. Today had been the second time visiting it, and they were going to binge watch Disney movies because, come on, you could never go wrong with Disney.

If it were possible, Blaine would have married the Evans house, for he had fallen in love with it. The nearly impossible to find empty spaces, the yelling that was considered a hushed conversation, the one level, the way every object seemed to smile immensely were just a few reasons why the Evans house hold was so bravura. Sam's mom, who had a massive swell on her stomach, always greeted Blaine by wrapping him up in her arms as if he were a present. Her eyes incessantly glittered looking like the ocean in sunlight.

Sam's family all had highly similar features. Same bleached yellow hair. Same nose. Same slightly above average height. There were a few exceptions. For example, Sam's dad, Johnathon Evans, teeth had been more like a horse than the rest of the family. Also, Sam's little two year old sister, Stacey, had a more green like sea splashing in her eyes.

Aladdin was dancing and singing his way around guards with a bread wrapped up in his fist when Blaine said, "I want to marry Aladdin."

That caused everyone in the room to gaze at him, intently, as they would to a zoo animal.

Sam, eyebrows crunched, asked, "Why? Shouldn't you want to marry Jasmine? I want to marry Jasmine."

"Jasmine isn't as beautiful as Aladdin in my personal opinion."

"But he's a dude."

Shifting her weight off the coach a little, Sam's mother chimed, "Boys can like boy and girls can like girls it just doesn't happen very frequently. It's also not really accepted in most places."

Sam crunched his eyebrows more so that they were nearly touching each other, and asked, "What does frequently mean?"

"It means to happen a lot." Blaine explained. "I think my dad told me about boys liking boys he said they were called fags or faggots; I can't remember."

Blaine hadn't noticed the tiny suck in of air from the women perched next to him, for all his attention was on the handsome boy on the screen.

The not-really-a-marathon had lasted for one and half movies. Half way through the Lion King, Sam leg bounced seizing fast. Fingers danced all over each other. He was ready to play.

"Hey, want to go outside? We can play with that football Finn got me."

"Yeah, of course."

Buried underneath a layer of crusted dirt, a football was being thrown between the two boys incessantly. The summer sun beating down heat that sweltered the skin of the youth. Sweat left trails behind them, as they trickle down the foreheads of the boys.

"Sam! My hair's going to be a mess."

"Mine's always a mess." Sam grumbled chasing after a pass that landed much shorter than it should have been thrown.

"You haven't seen my hair a mess though." Blaine whined.

"I haven't?"

"Yeah, I always put in gel."

"What the heck is gel?"

Blaine's mom likes to poke fun at him for wanting to have hair gel be by his side like it's his conjoined twin, or the fact he knows which brand is the best. Blaine never leaves the house without at least the tiniest dollop of gel mixed into his hair. Blaine knew it was an obsession. Blaine knows why he does it. Blaine's not going to tell Sam, though, that people would always put gum in his hair, or tug at it when it wasn't in gel. Blaine just answers Sam's question, "It's like liquid glue that you put in your hair to tame it."

"Oh," Sam replied after cradling the football in his hands.

Two hours later Sam noticed the little curls escaping the prison of this 'hair gel' Blaine uses. He thought it was cute, and it made him look more like a puppy. Shrugging his shoulders after Sam told him this, Blaine went home.

August 16th 2003

Sam doesn't like Blaine's parents. He doesn't like how they're always being unpleasant (A word he learned from Blaine.) towards his friend.

 _Sit straighter._

 _Chew with your mouth closed._

 _Mind your manners._

 _Blaine, use your head and say please._

 _Offer your friend something to drink._

 _We raised you better._

Sam was very confused. Sam was very, very confused. Were his parent's way too nice, and all the other parents were this mean? Sam shakes his head, and stabs his forked into this fancy meat called steak. He watches his sink deep into the meat like a boot slipping into thick mud. This meat kind of had a funny taste. It was burnt, but a good burning taste with lots of spices Sam wouldn't be able to say the name of.

"Sam likes watching Disney too. We had a marathon last time we went to his house." Blaine chirped from the chair beside him.

A bright smile softened Blaine's mom's tight face, as she said, "Oh, that's nice dear."

Sam decided that he liked Blaine's mom. She was nice. Blaine's dad, though-

"Blaine, I don't think that's appropriate for people your age. You shouldn't be watching things that are so girly."

"I think Disney is not girly at all. When Aladdin goes into the cave, it takes guts, and that's very manly." Sam said oozing with confidence. His chest was puffed out a little more than usually.

The boys had been excused from the dinner table which Sam didn't understand why he had to be excused. They never did that at his house. The Andersons residence went on for miles. Just when you thought it was the end of a hallway you realized it turns left or right into another one. Four levels to house were all filled with open spaces, and pottery that twinkled while in the presence of a light.

"What would you like to do?" Blaine asked walking up behind Sam. Dropped on the floor was Sam's tiny jaw, as he stared at the vast painted staring at him back. The painting had been draped gripping onto the wall at the end of a hallway for dear life. In the painting, a barn had been ripped to shreds, stars light up a dark night and trees were snapped in half. Cattle were meandering all over the place looking spooked.

With a voice dripping of complete awe, Sam asked, "Who painted this?"

"My 17 year old sister, Raye." Blaine answered while stepping beside Sam.

"You have a sister?"

"And a brother who is 15 named Cooper."

"Oh."

They had ended going outside to throw around a football. A tall ghost with the same tamed curls—only with white tips—as Blaine, and the same honey orbs as eyes stood in the window smiling looking over the boys with pride. Matthew Anderson was sure his son was going to grow up to be a star quarterback with a beautiful girlfriend, and the best of friends. He was going to be just like Cooper except the silly idea that acting could be a career.

September 5 2003

The school bell roared, and Kids scrambled like mice into their classrooms. Blaine was a soldier walking into room 102. His head down, legs straight, hands balled up tighter than a vice and eyes trained on the floor avoiding all the people in the room. He doesn't like school, well, the people in school. All the teachers call him smart, and all the kids call him a teacher's pet.

"Blaine!" A very familiar voice yelled. Blaine's ear perked up instantly, and he turned around.

"Sam!" He exclaimed while becoming lost in the arms of his friend.

"How cool! We're going to be in the same class." Sam smiled so hard it had to have hurt. "And it's a good thing too because Finn and Puck are in the other grade three class."

"Who are they?" Blaine asked.

"Oh! My other good friends. Just not as good of a friend as you." A warmth leaked through Blaine's body. He had never been anyone's friend none the less someone's good friend.

Hours of the day were filled with lectures of classroom expectations that numbed many of the kid's minds. No lesson to be seen, and no assignments to be colored. Blaine, alongside many of the kids he was sure, felt ready for a nap after such a dull day. He was walking out the entrance of the school in with Sam, and the latter asked, "Want to go to the playground?"

That was a logical idea Blaine had been thinking about. He and Sam should really spend their free hours at said playground before it decides to hide under a layer of snow.

"Yeah, sure, I can get my sister to drive us there. She's picking me up today,"

"Why not your Parents?" Blaine had just shrugged. "Okay, I just got to tell me mom… I'll meet you right here soon."

Sam had busted his way over to his parents to get the okay. Once he did, Sam hopped into Blaine's sister's car. It was his first time meeting his sister, and he thought she was gorgeous. Specks of green floated atop the honey colour in her eyes, and tanned hair fell so they were tickling her shoulders. Her ruby lips were swollen.

"Hello Sam! Blainey has told me everything about you! I feel like I know you even though I've never met you before."

"Raye." Blaine scoffed from behind his sister in the car.

"I'm just teasing you little bro, so Sam, my dude, I have to ask you one question before I can decide if were friends or not."

"Okay." He drew out the word.

"What's your favorite Disney movie?"

He laughed, "Aladdin, duh."

Raye's smile made a thousand angel die of envy. Her pearls were bleached a perfect white, and her face light up. "You pass the test my good man."

"Sweet," Sam replied catching the contagious smile.

September 12th 2003

"Okay, I get to be wolverine this time."

"No, I'm always wolverine."

Sam frowned, and replied, "That should mean I get to be him once… come on Blaine!"

"I just," A sigh tricked out of Blaine's lips. "I feel like I'm on the same spiritual level as him."

"Blaine! You need to stop using such big words and stuff. I don't understand what language you speak most of the time."

"It's English, Sam, English."

"Wait… English, that's what I speak, right?"

Blaine smacked his forehead with his hand making a violent skin slap sound echo in the silence of the playground. "Yes, yes it's the language we speak."

"Sorry, sorry."

Blaine shuffled in the yellow grass, and sunk down onto the swing set, and Sam followed his lead. "Here I have a compromise-"

"What's a compromise?" Sam cut him off with an eyebrow arched much higher than the other. "You know I could tickle you to get my way."

"You're a meanie." Blaine said.

Sam stood up, and Blaine was off of the swing set running as if a pack of wolves were chasing him with drool spilled over their lips. Sam trailed after him flinging himself at Blaine. When he was close enough, Sam captured Blaine's hips with his arms, and his fingers danced everywhere making Blaine laugh, hard. Blaine's breathe sputtered and demands of stopping trickled out of his mouth. The moment Blaine said he could be wolverine, Sam stood up, and took a bow in victory.

"You're a meanie." Blaine said.

"And you're cyclops."

November 18th 2003

The crisp wind's never ending howl, and the snow falling out of the clouds has let the walls of their houses protect Sam and Blaine. Every day the usually pop over to Sam's house. Today, Sam had been sitting with Raye while Blaine was getting in trouble for bringing snow into the house. Deep voice of Blaine's father sounded emotionless; the tone was never changing and there was no raising nor lowering of the level of hos voice.

"Does Blaine get in trouble like that a lot?"

"Sadly."

"So that's a yes," Sam clarified. Raye bobbed her head with hesitation sitting without flinching at the slightest when her father decided to scream something that was particularly too harsh for an eight year old to hear. Sam, though, would jump every once in a while as if an electric current passed through him. They had sat in the same hallway as the painting Sam was in infatuated with.

"You painted that, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did."

"It's beautiful," he sighed staring at it, and he no longer flinched at the screams pouring into the hallway. They both discussed the painting; the meaning (How it was the longing feeling of domesticity which Sam had not understood.), they slightly blue tone to the colors, how you could tell it was painting, but still so vastly realistic. Sam had decided from that moment on he wanted to paint. It had sounded fun and tranquil (a word Raye had told him, and Sam was excited to tell Blaine it). Sam wanted to make big stuff like Raye did; like the one in the hallway.

December 25th 2003

Everyone around the Anderson's Christmas ripped presents to their bare skin, and mouthed lyrics to the hushed sound of various Christmas music. Blaine, though, couldn't hear the Christmas music. He sat trapped by clothed presents, and he didn't move a muscle when his mother pointed it out. His father's yells and cries of how he ruined Christmas rang in Blaine's ears, and it echoed more than the Grand Canyon could ever dream. Raffi's singing wasn't nowhere to be heard.

It hadn't occurred to Blaine that wanting to play princess with his girl cousins would ruin Christmas, or decorating a gingerbread man to be a gingerbread girl. He didn't know that singing a girls song from The Little Mermaid would as well. He didn't know he couldn't wear a pink bow, and that he should be wearing a blue or green tie. Blaine just didn't know.

Sam stood swaying like a willow in the door way of his living room all night. He'd blink and his sigh would crack the silence that hung in the air. Where the heck was Santa? You'd be logical to think he's come around soon. "It was 11:38 for good sake," Sam would mumble.

A thundering sound had awoken Sam from his slumber where he heard the cracking of sore bones after standing up off of the ground. Stacey, his now three year old sister, was shrieking bloody murder, for she had seen the presents sleeping in the lap of their Christmas tree. Sam meandered his way over there to see fewer presents than last year, and there was none addressed to his parents.

"Honey, are you sure you're okay with no presents this year. The kids had been begging me to take them shopping for you," Sam's father had said.

"The kids need the presents more than us, John." Sam's mother whispered back, as they both hit the bottom of the stairs."

"I just wished we had more money."

Later that day when the sun hung itself high in the sky, there was a rapid banging on the Evens household which cause everyone to stiffen. Without the cash in their pockets to travel, the Evens couldn't scrape out money to go back to Kentucky where the rest of their family was vacated currently. Surely nobody would be there; people were busy with their own families.

When the door opened its jaw, everyone breathed out and relaxed. It had only been a tiny boy with curly hair and a blue tie. Sam and Blaine played the rest of the evening both generally confused. While Blaine didn't know why Sam only received one gift from Santa, Sam couldn't wrap his mind around why Blain hadn't wanted to play with his family.


	2. Chapter 2

January 11th 2004

Sam woke up, and he immediately flung back the sheets and jumped out of the bed. He stumbled down the hallway towards the living so fast he fell on his butt. Sure it had hurt, but nothing good bring Sam down today. Once he hit the living room's carpet, voices that sounded so familiar belted out the 'Happy Birthday' song. Sam smiled, and ran into his mom's arms.

From beside his mother Sam's dad said, "Happy birthday son."

"Thanks guys!" Sam squealed sounding like parrots squawk.

Steven, his one month old brother who the family calls Stevie, tiny mouth was snuggled deep into his father's arms grinning at Sam. The day was full of tearing open wrapped up toys, filling up on primarily sugar and fat, hanging up balloons and hanging up green streamers. Only 39 more minutes to go until the party extravaganza (another fancy word Sam learned from Blaine). Six of his friends were coming: Finn Hudson, Noah Puckerman, Santana Lopez, Brittney Pierce, Mike Chang and, of course, Blaine Anderson. Sitting cross legged in front of the main door, Sam stared at it waiting for the moment he hears a glorious knock.

30 more minutes. Sam starts to whistle his favorite country songs.

25 more minutes. Sam clacks his knees together making a thump sound when they come in contact.

19 more minutes. Sam makes a popping noises with his lips.

12 more minutes. Sam blinks back tears after losing a staring contest to the wall.

7 more minutes. Sam turn his fingers into drum sticks and his knees are the drums.

3 more minutes. Sam hears a knock, and stands up as if the floor was ablaze. Opening the doors jaw, Sam felt his chest being hammered against from his beating heart. A Mohawk had greeted him alongside a big bag spilling out wrapping paper at the top. Sam let in his friend Noah Puckerman, and told him where to place the present. Santana and Brittney came next joining Puck where he messed around with a football in Sam's bedroom. Sam felting an itching to go join them; he start to meander his way to the porch when he shook the silly thoughts out of his head. Sam had a job to do. He had to greet all his guests properly, and he was determined to do so. Finn Hudson came shortly followed by a very Asian looking Mike Chang. The most important thing was last.

"Blaine!" Sam yelled so loud the people in the bedroom perked their ears up when they heard him. A perfect square box was wrapped up in a green paper sleeping in Blaine's tiny arms. Gelled curls glittered in the snow reflected sunlight.

"Sam! Happy birthday!" Blaine smiled, but winced soon after. A red goop was oozing out of Blaine's lips leaving it looking like it was cracked in half.

Sam replied, "Whoa, You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah it's just a split lip."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. It was my fault," Blaine grumbled slightly with a tight smile reappearing on his face. Sam didn't like that smile. It looked fake or forced. Sam wanted to fix that.

"Come on Blaine! We're going to play football!" Sam exclaimed.

"Outside? There's still snow on the ground, and it's still awfully cold-"

Sam cut him off. "We're playing in the living room. My mom moved some stuff around."

"Okay." Sam could still tell the smile was forced. That made the corners of his mouth dip into a frown. Supposedly Sam wasn't going to let anything bring him down, but it was hard when your best friend was being… different. Trailing after Sam who was gathering is other friends into the living room, Blaine was a lost puppy. Eyes were hollow inside, and he was never more than a foot away from Sam. With a puffed up chest, Sam was determined to make Blaine normal again. Not this hollow robot that was following him around.

Even though the girls were annoyed, they all played football. Teams of three tossed the football to each other running over the carpet to reach the other end for a touchdown. Sam made sure to be on Blaine's team. It was step one in his masterful plan to make Blaine smile again. Step two: make a stupid joke. Step three: tickle him. Step four: let him be wolverine (For the millionth time). A football landing in front of him made Sam's thought scatter like a criminal in the lights of a police car.

"Knock, knock," Sam said.

Finn replied, "Whose there?"

"Beat."

"Beat who?"

"Beats me." Step two didn't work. The only giggles were pouring out of Finns and Brittney's mouths. Blaine stood still, emotionless. Time for step three. Blaine had been carrying the football when Sam tackled him. It flew out of Blaine's arms and bounced its way across the floor. Fingers were attacking the side of Blaine's torso in a ruthless battle. He giggled. Sam mentally whooped, and slipped off of Blaine.

Blaine smiled, "What was that for?"

"I just wanted to see that smile."

"You really are a meanie."

January 28th 2004

Blaine curled his knees up into his chest before water engulfed and ate him up. He had perfected the art of the cannon ball. Finally. The local pool was dead silent except for the hum of the large fan and the two boys making splashing sounds. Blaine swam up to the surface, and swallowed the air. The pool stretched across a pale yellow tile and hidden under a high roof. Dolphins swam on the walls surrounding the water. Different noodles and foam boat were scattered everyone on and alongside the pool. A lifeboat was hung up on a hook on the south wall. Sam finally walked, more shuffled, out of the change room.

"Why do you have a shirt on?" Blaine asked.

Sam paused. "Ugh…"

"There's no one else here, and I won't judge you or anything."

Swimming up to the edge of the pool, Blaine looked up at Sam with water trickling down his forehead and dipping into the curves of his face. Fingers lingered around the bottom of the white tank top Sam was wearing before he looked up with guilt oozing of his face.

"I think I look too fat without it on." Sam mumbled looking away from the hazel orbs.

Blaine replied, "Sam, your thinner than me. There's no possible way you could be fat."

"I still would feel more comfortable with it on."

"That's fine with me, but you know you're not fat, right?" Blaine said.

"I don't know about that, Blainers." Sam grumbled back. He could feel the fat pooling over his swimming trunks.

"Sam, even if you were fat—which you're not—I would still like you the same," Blaine explained worries about his friend. Sam was awesome; he shouldn't not think that any part of him was less than that.

Sam replied, "Wow, you explained something that actually made sense. There were no big words I didn't understand. You're finally learning to speak my language!"

"Or maybe you're becoming more intelligent?"

"What's intelligent mean?" Sam asked. Blaine laughed, and explained the definition making sure not to use too hard of words. After Sam's white shirt was replaced by a bare torso, he hurdled himself into the pool. Water ate him up. Sam smiled forgetting about the little bit of stomach the poked out of his belly, as he and Blaine played pirates with the beat up foam boat.

February 28th 2004

Sam joined football with Finn, Mike and Noah; he always had a smile after Friday night practices when they would all go over the Hudson's household. Carole, Finn's mom, lived in the kitchen always making it smell like heaven was on Earth. Whether it was the smell of sweet hot chocolate, cinnamon buns or the amazing smell of greasy hamburgers all of Carole's food made Sam's tummy growl at him. Sam loved going over to Finn's. He had started going there more often. On Saturday, Sunday and afterschool. During school, at break time, Sam would toss around a football with all the boys. Sam tries to remember the last time he hung out with Blaine. Or when the last time he talked to Blaine. There was this pretty girl named Brittney he was infatuated (Another word he learned from Blaine.) with. Her blue eyes were like they ocean, and oh-so awesome to look at. Also, her hair. The blonde strands would almost smile in the light. Even though Sam had all this awesomeness, he was always to see Blaine sitting on the concrete by himself wearing a wary smile when he looked a Sam.

March 2nd 2004

Sam joined football with Finn, Mike and Noah. Two of which bugged Blaine at school. Finn was always saying mean things.

 _You're bowties suck._

 _You're such a teacher's pet._

 _I'm better then you at everything._

 _You try too hard._

Noah shoved him into the concrete ground outside, or stole his pencils and stuck them somewhere where he couldn't find it. Sam was always playing football outside now. Blaine made friends with the girl named Tina Cohen-Chang, but he couldn't always find her during the breaks at school. Blaine would find a spot on the sidewalk covered in different hopscotch paths of paled chalk colors, and watch Sam counting the second it would take for him to walk over. Sam never did come over to Blaine even after the bell shrieked at them to go back to class. Blaine would blink until his eyes felt dry enough to go to class.

March 14th 2004

Sam was walking towards the school entrance when he heard the sound of skin smacking violently. It was poured out from around the corner. He walked over towards the sound, and froze when he saw what it was. Sam's eyes were pumped open faster than a balloon being filled with air. Blaine was pinned up against the brick walls by these two big grade five kids, and blood was running out of his nose covering the terrain of his chin. Scattered across the grass was a pink bowtie was ripped into a million tiny pieces. With a shake of his head, Sam yelled, "Stop or I'll get a teacher!"

Two pairs of eyes snapped at him while the mouths below both of them growled out something about being a snitch. Blaine crumpled to the ground like a limbless rag doll. Inching up to the body, Sam asked, "Are you okay?"

"Physically yes… mentally I'm not sure," Blaine replied.

"Okay, what?"

"My body feels fine, but inside my head not so much."

Sam smiled because he understood what Blaine was actually saying for once. He frowned, though, when Blaine didn't use his offered hand to stand up. "What's wrong?" Sam asked.

"I didn't think we were friends anymore." While brushing off dirt from his pants, Blaine grumbled.

"What?"

"We don't talk anymore, and you're always playing with Finn Hudson."

"That doesn't mean we're not friends anymore."

Blaine started walking away wiping his nose against his arm to get rid of the blood; he said, "You don't even talk to me in class anymore, Sam."

Trailing after Blaine like a train carts follow each other, Sam whined, "That doesn't mean anything!"

"Really? Because it feels like you despise me now."

"What does despise mean?"

"It means that you don't like something."

"What?" Sam blurted out harshly. "You don't think I like you. Does that mean you don't like me?"

"No way! You were my best friend!" Blaine said, and he stopped in his tracks. Sam had to think about that one for a little bit. Were? Does that mean they weren't best friends anymore? What happened? Blaine's eyes were glistening from the tears gathering in his eyelids. They were threatening to fall over.

Taking a hesitant step towards Blaine, Sam replied, "Blaine you are my best friend."

"Are you sure?"

"I promise." With that, Sam's arm were wrapped around Blaine's torso.

Blaine asked, "Why are you hugging me?"

"Because it's like a handshake, and I'm making a deal with you that we're always going to be best friends."

"It's just more cushiony."

"Yuperdoodles."

Blaine laugh had made all the wetness in his eyes dry out, and dripping with tease he said, "Sam, what the heck is yuperdoodles?"

"Holy moly! I'm actually telling you what a word means!" Sam pulled back from the hug with his eyebrows raised into his forehead.

"Not a real word."

"In Samish it's a real word."

"Samish?" Blaine questioned.

"It's the language I speak… you should try to learn it."

April 2nd 2004

"Anderson! Stop wearing such cute clothes to school!

"What?"

Noah Puckerman looked down at the rocks that the school's playground swam in, and mumbled a nothing hidden under his breath. He hadn't meant to say that aloud. He felt a heat flare up in his cheeks before he ran off the playground to play some football. Stupid Blaine with his adorable bowtie and puppy eyes.

June 25th 2004

Blaine's smile was brighter than the sun, as his eye widened to the size of the ocean. A tiny little box was sleeping in his hands. In that tiny box was a Nintendo DS. Blaine grabbed the phone hanging up on the wall, and dialled the Evan's household.

" _Hello?"_ A muffled voice cracked through the phone with incessant screams in the background.

"Hello Mrs. Evans… I was wondering is Sam could come over?" Blaine replied.

" _Oh! Of course he can. Just let me tame the beasts, and drop him off."_

"I can always get my mom to come get him."

" _No-no-no I need to go to the grocery store anyways."_

Blaine offered his goodbyes after Sam's mom did; he made his way to be engulfed by the big white leather couches of his living room. The door stared him down, as he tapped his finger repeatedly across his bouncing legs. Blaine's mother had been out the back door hands a knees deep in the immense pool of flowers. She dug a few up followed by burying a few in deep. A sharp knock-knock on the front door had Blaine sitting up so fast he stumbled foreword. The door was flown back so fast that if you blink, you'd miss it.

"Sam!" Blaine exclaimed. Only that that the tall man with not a single trace of hair atop his head was standing there with the most plastic smile Blaine has ever seen. Blaine stammered, "W-who are you?"

"Is you mom or dad home?" He asked. The man's voice was deep like the ones that do the voiceover in movie trailers.

"My-my mother is home, yes."

"Can I speak with her?"

"Yes you may." Blaine replied. Calling out for his mom, Blaine was followed by a big shadow of a man. A hushed conversation between the man and Blaine's mom was out of Blaine's reach.

"Why is child services here?" Blaine's mother asked horrified.

"We had a complaint about someone here abusing a little boy."

Jennifer Anderson had to take a step back, "A-abusing?"

"Yeah, there were crashing noises and a child's scream heard by a few of the neighbours," the man said ringing his hands together.

"You're not going to take my child away are you?"

"No," he said tone was doused in an annoyance. "But I will need to check him for any bruises."

They both stepped into the house where Blaine had taken his previous spot waiting for another knock on the door. Hopefully with someone more familiar to answer the door. The man wanted him to take off his shirt, and made him twirl around. After another hushed conversation between the two adult, the man left grumbling about how he loved to hate his job. A softer knock than the previous rang through the house. Blaine slowly got up to answer it, and he creaked open the door. Sam was there, and he said, "What's up Blaine?"

Blaine no longer wanted to talk about his new video game console he got for his birthday. His stomach clenched and flipped around. Frankly, Blaine felt like puking the whole time Sam toyed around with the DS as if it were made of gold. Sam hasn't any gaming devices of his ow—his parents told him they couldn't afford it, but he didn't know what that word had meant. Echoing through Blaine's head was a few words he snatched from the hushed conversation.

 _Are you going to take him away?_

 _Does his father hit him?_

 _I don't have an alcohol problem, mister._

Blaine's mother's throat fired up after another shot of whiskey. Just one more. Just one more and she'll start feeling better.

August 28th 2004

Blaine had a secret. He didn't like girls the way Sam did. It was all he would talk about, though. Today had been no different. After a while of the feel of flying on the swings, Sam asked Blaine, "I really miss Brittney, Mercedes and Santana."

"Why?"

A joyed sigh breathed past his lips, "'cause they were pretty to look at. You know?" Blaine nodded with plenty of hesitation. "Did you like anybody?"

"W-what do you mean?" With his eyes looking directly downwards, Blaine stammered.

"Did you find anybody pretty? Like, did you want to, you know, kiss anyone."

Of course Blaine did, but he wasn't going to tell anyone. Not yet. "No," he replied. "Did you?"

"Yeah, Brittney, Mercedes, Santana even Tina."

"Wow," Blaine whispered.

"Let's go play some superheroes… shall we?"

Blaine flew off the swings, and immediately swung into action kicking and punching air as hard as he could. Relieving the feeling of stress from the girl talk. Sam had decided to run more than usually. The fat around his arm was a lot more than Artie, and he needed it to be gone. His mom was talking about running off all the baby fat around stomach, and Sam thought it had been a great idea.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note: Sorry for all the grammar errors; I'm trying to do better editing now. We have some of the main plot coming up, so please keep with the story! Please like, follow, comment or do all three? If you want? I don't own glee. Sadly. Also! Sorry it's been so long. Ya know… life happens**

September 27th 2008

Middle school had been the shit for Sam and Blaine. They both played football. They both had girls crawling by their feet. They both were popular and loved by everyone. They were both generally considered immensely attractive. Though short, Blaine had his curls tamed under a thin layer of gel giving him a very composed and handsome look. Every girl in the school faints at the sight of Sam. They all giggle when he walks past them and winks. Sam was the mirrored image of a California surfer dude. He even matched the classic skin tone, and plaid was plastered to his back like a leech every day. Bullying, for Blaine, had died down. No one bugged him about his bowties or his intelligence. Especially since a high percentage of his elementary bullies went to the other middle school.

Well, it was the shit for Blaine until today when the boys were toying with remotes for a video game, and Blaine stuttered hidden underneath his breath, "I-I-I'm gay."

"I know."

"Wait what?" Blaine looked over to see Sam's face focused on the screen, unchanged. His eyes sparkled with red from the explosions on the T.V, and his eyebrows nearly touching from concentration. There was no evidence as to what Blaine said had register.

"I know."

Blaine felt like all the oxygen left his body, as he was struggling to breathe. How'd he know? Did Sam catch his checking him out? Did Sam Catch him checking other people out. Was he freaked out? Were they still going to be friends? No longer noticing what was happening on the screen Blaine asked, "How did you know?"

"Dude, you wanted to marry Aladdin When we were younger. You practically drooled when you seen him." Blaine was too terrified to correct Sam's grammar. Sam paused the game not wanting to lose because Blaine was not focused on the zombies. He looked right into Blaine's pleading eyes, and said, "It's not that big of a deal."

Blaine bolted up off his white leather couches like they electrocuted him, and started pacing a hole in the ground. "Are you sure that it's not that big of a deal?"

"Yeah, why would it be?"

In one breathe Blaine murmured, "it's against gods belief, I'm pretty much going to hell, I could rape you, I could be, like, having all these fantasies of your friends, I could die from aids, I'm never going to have a love life, I could be incessantly staring at your ass-"

"Blaine shut up!" Blaine's mouth closed, and he burned the floor with his eyes. "It's not that big of a deal! Okay man? I know you're not going to rape me… cause gross. Okay?" Sam said.

"Okay."

"Okay, have you told anyone else?"

"No," Blaine replied.

The couch shrieked, as it lost Sam's body weight. Blaine was eaten by Sam's arms when he pulled him into a hug. Sam whispered, "You're my best friend Blaine, and I promise to be there for you if even the baddest thing happens."

"Its worst, Sam."

"You can't even let me get away with my Samish when we're having a heartwarming moment?"

Nodding his head, Blaine laughed his breath tickling Sam's neck. The latter said, "Now let's kill some zombies. If we don't beat this level today, I will be very sad."

October 10th 2008

Blaine walked through the main entryway of this school, and froze once the door shut behind him. A sign hanging in the hallway read: Welcome Faggot. All the heads in the hallway followed him like felines do when they see mouse; their necks moving following Blaine's movement, as he runs down the hallway to hide. His vision blurry, and a heat spilled all over his cheeks, neck and ears. Fucking Santana Lopez. She was one of the only people he remembers from high school that hadn't transferred to the other middle school. They had been 'dating' in grade seven; they held hands, were forced to dance at a school dance by their friends and only ever went out in public when in the middle of a lake of friends. She wanted to kiss him earlier this week. Blaine had said no. No. No. No. After an umpteenth times of asking, Blaine got flustered, and had blurted out his sexuality to her. A smirk appeared. Santana had told him that if he didn't kiss her, she would tell the whole school his secret.

Laughs echoed down the hallway form where Blaine hide in a bathroom stall.

He hadn't kissed her.

He wished he had.

The bell rang, and Blaine heard the footsteps of the student body rumble their way to class. Blaine didn't budge. He sat on the toilet feeling his heart hammer into his chest, and the wetness that leaked from his eyes. Blaine was glued to the seat all day until the final bell yelled, and Sam knocked on the door saying in a soft voice, "Blaine, dude, we need to go home." After a few stretched seconds, Sam sighed. "Blaine please come out."

"I already did."

"Huh?"

"You know? When you say your gay it's called coming out… get it? It was a joke." Blaine's muffled voice filled the bathroom. Sam laughed, and smiled knowing that Blaine wasn't completely wrecked.

"Come on, buddy," Sam replied.

Once a soft click of the door un-locking hit the room, Blaine emerged from the bathroom. His smiled wavered as he asked, "Can we go to your house to watch Disney movies instead of mine?"

"Of course. You doing okay?" Sam questioned with eyes scanning over Blaine. Trails of tears were all over his check, and his eyes were tinted red. For the most part, though, he looked fine.

Blaine grumbled, "I'm physically okay. No one laid a hand on me. Mentally is where it gets dubious. I'm honestly scared to go to school."

"Good thing we have a weekend to let things settle in, right?"

"Yeah, sure."

December 1st 2008

"Why the hell are you quitting football?" Blaine's father's voice was followed by the crash of a plate being thrown into the wall from the kitchen table where four people sat.

"Dad!"

"Don't yell Raye."

Raye replied, easing her tone, "Please don't throw the cutlery."

"Please tell your mindless brother that he shouldn't quit football, and join band like a fag."

"Matthew please don't swear." Pamela Anderson shushed him. Her second wine glass emptied, so she filled it to the brim again.

Ray had been taking a university course in Lima, and living with her parent until she gets her Bachler degree in 2009. She wants to apply for a job in Lima as well, for she doesn't want to leave Blaine alone unlike some members of the family with a tenuous idea of going to Hollywood with no experience.

Blaine said, "Sir, I just really don't want to play football. I don't enjoy it anymore, and the guys on the team bug me," and by guys, he meant Finn Hudson.

"I'm not going to have my son going around dancing and singing in tights." He said finishing off his plate, and wiping his chin with a cloth napkin deep red like a blood rose.

"Violin isn't dancing and singing," Blaine said while rolling his eyes.

Matthew's chest raised up slowly and fell down, as he said, "There will be no music period."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to hang around those people."

Blaine asked, "What people?"

"The queer," Matthew spat out the word like it offended him… which I had based on the scrunched up look on his face.

"What's wrong with them?"

"Everything."

"Whatever," Blaine snapped while crossing his arms. Three head stared at him with eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open. Blaine never snapped. He was the perfect son. Always.

"Go upstairs Blaine, and don't come back down." Matthew said words monotone, harsh.

"Yessir."

Little footsteps pattered up the stairs were followed by the soft click of a door closing. If looks could kill, Matthew Anderson would have died from the glare his daughter had.

"Was that necessary?" Raye asked.

"Yes, yes it was."

Blaine sat on his bed earbuds invading his ears. Katy Perry was singing over top of the sound of water running and dishes clanging. He had texted Cooper, but he never texts back. Never. A few tears trickled out of his eyes, but Blaine stopped them before anything intense could happen. He knew that Raye was going to walk in, and check up on him. Nearly on cue, the door creaked open, and a yellow light spilled into the dark room. Blaine ripped out his ear buds.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said softly almost singing. "What were you listening to?" Raye sat on the navy bed next to Blaine. After receiving a sheepish grin from Blaine, Raye smiled. "Why do I ask? Of course it was Katy."

They stared at each other the sound of silence swamping them. Raye was fitting all the tiny pieces in her head to create a big picture. The picture was that Blaine was gay. The little pieces were his infatuation of Katy Perry, how he always wants to watch Aladdin, having a girlfriend but never talking to her, never talking about girls and always wanting to subscribe to Vogue. He was always denied from his father, of course. Blaine cracked the silence, "What's up?"

"Blaine," she sighed.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me my lil' bro-ski. You know what's up. You never snap like that at the dinner table."

He nodded.

"Come on, dude. Spill the beans."

Taking in a deep breathe that shook violently, Blaine whispered, "I'm gay. I like boys that way I'm supposed to like girls."

"Okay."

"I-I-I'm sorry."

"Why the hell are you sorry?" She asked. She watched Blaine's eye start to twinkle.

"I-I'm just- I'm just sorry." He stuttered voice cracking from the tears spilling out from his eye relentlessly. Raye just caught her brother in a tight hug, and shushes poured out of her mouth into his curls while they rocked back and forth.

February 12th 2009

"Okay, dude, we always talk about girls and stuff. We should talk about boys."

"Boys?"

"Yeah, like which ones you find cute and hot and stuff," Sam said with a smile. He loved how easy it was to have red spill over Blaine's cheeks.

With eyes glittering from the reflection of the television, Blaine replied, "No thank you, I'm good."

It was the weekly Sunday night movie marathon. Sunday had been the only day Sam didn't have football while Blaine didn't have piano. After a stretched argument, Blaine's dad had agreed to private piano lessons.

"Come on! You got to think that Johnny Depp is at least okay looking," Sam exclaimed.

"Well…"

"Give me something man!"

"I do think that Brad Pitt is mildly attractive," Blaine replied.

"Mildly attractive?" Sam questioned with full attention on Blaine.

"Okay, fine, he's pretty…" Blaine trailed off.

"Say it."

Blaine had hesitated before replying with a timid, "Hot?"

"There it is. If that's the case, we should watch fight club."

"I highly agree." Blaine smiled mirroring the big dopey smirk plastered on Sam's face.

They were half way through the movie when Blaine's train of thought started running. Boys in the hallway laughed, as he walked past them. Blaine always heard hushed conversations that girls held behind his back. If kids weren't doing something crude or insulting, they crunched their face up as if they were sucking a lemon as Blaine appeared in their view way. Sure, he had a few friends in his class, and he secretly joined choir without his dad's knowledge. The girls in choir were always there to welcome him with a smile and a hug. They never judged him when they saw the Vogue buried deep in his bag. In fact, they praised it; asking Blaine about the new fashion trends. Blaine was just glad his father hadn't heard about his sexuality. Blaine was scared of the day he comes out to his dad. Not just scared; terrified of having to see the reaction.

"Blaine?" Sam said. The train of thought had de-railed in Blaine's head.

"Excuse me, what did you say?"

"Dude, I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Blaine replied.

Sam looked at him face full of thought, and he said, "Stop thinking about your dad."

"How'd you know?" Blaine was rushed; he was a deer in headlights.

"Cause you're my best friend, and I know you very goodly."

"Well," Blaine corrected.

"What?"

"I know you very goodly isn't proper grammar. It should be I know you very well."

Sam sighed dripping with amusement, "How did I know you were going to correct me at some point?"

"Because you're my best friend?"

"Yeah," Sam sighed content. "But seriously dude, you shouldn't worry about your dad."

Blaine just snuggled deeper into the bed, and let the wave of ease flush out his thoughts.

March 27th 2009

Sam's home phone hollered into the house for the fourth time. He slammed his pencil down onto his homework, and stomped into the kitchen to get the phone.

"Why do I always have to be the one answering the phone? Everyone is so lazy around here," Sam grumbled on his way there.

He was glad his family wasn't there to pick up the phone once he heard a breathy voice of, "He knows"

"Who and what?" Sam replied.

"My dad he, ya know, knows."

"How'd he find out…?" Sam paused, and he blurted out, "Did you tell him?"

"No, he…" there was a hitch in Blaine voice. "He found out 'cause he saw me."

Sam took a step back, and replied with a voice dripping heavy with confusion, "Saw you doing what? You got to be specific here, man. I don't follow things well."

"He saw me kissing someone."

"What! Why the fuck are you kissing people?"

Blaine's voice went tight, "I'm sorry I just-"he was cut off by his own sob.

Sam took a big breath to calm his initial shook, and said softly, "Hey, hey do you need me to come over?"

"No."

"Want to come over here?"

The answer was delayed and quiet, but Sam still heard it clear, "Yes"

"Come over anytime, dude! I was just working on some homework."

"Okay, I'll be there soon."

Sam thought the definition of soon was short or quick, but he was wrong. A knock on his door came an hour and a half after he hung up the phone. Sam got up from the couch to answer the door.

"Where have you been, man?"

"I really needed some time to think."

With that, Sam took a good look at Blaine's face. Blood was oozing out from a split on his lip, and his left eye had a shiner. That's the moment Sam knew why Blaine was so scared of his dad. That was the moment Sam started letting Blaine over to his house every day.

March 2nd 2009

"Sam! Sam! Is it cool if I stay here? I just got back from piano," Blaine yelled into the house after slamming the door behind him. There was no response or movement. Blaine could here crickets in the corner. "Sam?"

"Upstairs," a weak voice poured from upstairs.

Blaine walked up the stairs with hesitation, and his heart was thumping at an uncontrollable pace. Sam never sounded so upset. He pushed the door open to the bathroom, and found a limp body lying on the middle of the floor. Sam's face was the same color as the white tiles he rested upon.

"Sam, what are you doing on the floor?"

With glazed eyes, Sam lifted his head, "What?"

"Sam," Blaine drew out the word; speaking softly and slowly he said, "What are you doing on the floor?"

"You, ugh, you really, really don't want to know…"

Blaine nodded, "Okay, come on. Let's get you to bed."

Bending down to one knee, Blaine draped Sam's arm over his shoulders. After dragging Sam across the hallway, Blaine hoisted him up onto the bed. He took in the seizure Sam's whole body seemed to have. He was shaking harder than a runner after a marathon. Blaine ran downstairs, and gathered up medicine and food. Sam refused both. Sam just fell into the bed like a lifeless rag doll.

"Where's your family?" Blaine asked once it got later into the night.

"My siblings had a choir concert at their school, and I didn't want to go," Sam rumbled.

"Okay, well, I must get going. Are you going to be fine without me?" Sam nodded in response. "Okay… well, please get better."

March 3rd 2009

Blaine typed into his phone: Hey, you feeling better? His phone buzzed in his pocket almost a second later. It read: Yeah, sorry… I have no idea what was wrong. Blaine smiled, and walked into the school.

April 22nd 2009

This was the fourth time… the fourth time Blaine found Sam "Sick" on the floor somewhere in his house when his parents were gone. Sitting by Sam while he laid on the couch pale like a ghost, Blaine watched the sun set through the main window. The sun smiled brightly at him countering the sad look dawned on his face. Blaine was scared for his friends, scared of his father and scared of the people at school. The darkened skin underneath his eye really proved the fact that life wasn't too great right now.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Blaine asked after the silence nearly choked him.

"What do you mean?" he replied with a weak voice.

"I mean, why are you so sick all the time?"

"I don't know."

Blaine looked at him with slit eyes, and he huffed, "Sure"

"Forget it Blaine."

"No, no I won't because I care about you Sam. Believe it or not your problems matter." Sam just huffed back a whatever. "Fine, don't tell me, and I'll tell your parents about your sickness."

Sam sat up as if the couch burned him, "You wouldn't."

"Uh yeah, yeah I would because clearly you're not okay."

"Well, you're not either," Sam snapped.

"Hey, hey, hey," Blaine eased. "There's no need for an argument. Please just tell me what's seems to be a burden."

"How about you use words I fucking know."

"A problem, Sam, a burden means a problem."

"Whatever."

Crawling behind the horizon, the sun disappeared, and stars smiled in the sky. Sam and Blaine sat not talking with a tension choking the room. Blaine squeaked off the couch, and said, "I got to go before my father gets really mad."

"You tell my parents about my situation, and I'll tell your sister and my parents about your dad."

"Sam," Blaine choked.

"About how he beats you every night-"

"Sam please." Blaine started backing up towards the door, and Sam was on him like a hawk.

"But he avoids your face, so that no one will notice."

"Sam, what are you doing right now?" Blaine yelled. Sam took a step back, and took in the liquid filling Blaine's puppy eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," Sam stuttered while taking a step back.

"Sam, can you just please tell me what's going on before dumping it all on me?"

Sam blinked, and replied before his brain could catch up to what he was saying, "I'm making myself throw up."

"Sam, why?"

That's all it took for Sam to collapse back onto the couch, and he cry tears falling out like a waterfall. Sobs tearing up his throat. Blaine was at his side in an instant; he pulled him into a hug. Rubbing his back in a soothing manner.

"Sam… why are you, why are you doing this?" once the tears melted into snuffles, Blaine asked.

He shrugged, and replied, "You know you never told me who you were kissing."

Blaine laughed, "Nice try at a topic change… nice try."

"I'm sorry, I just, I don't like the why I look," he replied in a tone dripped with weakness.

"Why? You're beautiful Sam."

"Now don't go all gay on me Blaine…"

"I won't… and I won't tell your parents. Just, just call me if you're going to do this again, okay?"

June 16th 2009

Blaine, two in the morning, sat alone sinking into the paled grass of the playground with darkness swallowing him. An empty bottle of his dad's whiskey sitting neighbour to him. He sat for a while, and eventually the sprinklers came on. He didn't move. Water smacked him in the face and numbed it. He sat hoping it would numb his mind too. Sam, two in the morning, sat on his porch feeling the ache settling in his ass. Checking his phone every umpteenth minutes, Sam sat looking for a familiar head of curls and bowtie. He sat until the sun started to peak its head up from behind the horizon. When no boy was in sight, Sam sighed and meandered in his house ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach.

Earlier that week the two boys had agreed on meeting each other after the Sadie Hawkins dance their school threw together.


	4. Chapter 4

June 15th, 2009

"I'm straight. Not gay. I like tits, not dicks…" the same words incessantly pouring out of Noah Puckermans mouth. His breath stuttered as he ran down the school hallways in search of someone. Three of his football friends trailing after him like puppies. None of them able to hear the breathy huffs coming out of Noah's mouth.

"Where are you? Your dead, you're dead," he kept muttering until he heard water running in the nearest bathroom. Noah turned around, and all three of the football player nodded. They all tumbled into the bathroom to see a short boy with brown curls sticking out all over the place hunched over the sink coddling his nose. Tears of blood were dripped all over the sink from the red running along the boys chin. His chest thumping from breaths of exertions.

"Hey fag, what was that back there?"

"Why the fuck were you trying to convince us that our boy, Puck here, kissed you?" two husky deep voices boomed from behind Noah. He felt a clap on his back, and his legs shaking violently like they were having a seizure. _That's because I did kiss him,_ Noah thought. _I did._ Shaking his head, Noah scrambled those thoughts away like cats faced with water. He was straight, so he couldn't have kissed a boy. After a breath, that shook violently, Noah took a step towards the boy. His legs still quivering. The boy finally looked up, and his eyes were pleading. Shining in the light form the un-shed tears that gathered in there. _I'm sorry,_ Noah thought. _I'm sorry._

"Yeah, Blaine. Why the fuck are you telling lies?" Noah said, nervously.

"I-I'm sorry." He replied while swallowing thickly.

"Well, not as sorry as your gonna be," Noah growled with a sneer on his face. Easily slipping into his mask of a bad ass. Blaine just closed his eyes in defeat. _I'm so sorry._

"Get him!" One of the voices of the previous football players hollered.

Four pairs of hands grabbed onto the limbs of their victim effortlessly dragging him out to the nearest exit. The sun long gone into the dark of the night, as it rained. Drops falling hard into the concert making splashes alongside pools of blood. Noah throwing his fist into Blaine's face, stomach anywhere he could reach, as his friends held Blaine down. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._ It would have so much easier if Blaine's eyes weren't open staring down into Noah's. Lifeless. After Blaine finally fell down to his knees with an echoing crack that puckered up Noah's face, he kicked him once in the stomach. "We should go before someone finds us," Puck yelled into the rain.

"Nah, its fine no one's gonna come looking for 'em."

"No, we have to go now. The dance is almost over, and I wouldn't mind dancing with my date one last time to maybe get laid tonight. Plus, I need to wash all this blood off," Pucks voice wavered on the word blood. He looked down to see Blaine limping and grunted bathing in a pool of his own blood. Noah's mouth started watering, as his stomach all of a sudden flipped. After all the football players nodded, Noah bolted down to find the nearest bathroom; he dropped to his knees in to meet face-to-face with a toilet. He gagged, but nothing came up. _I'm sorry, Blaine._

In the gym, at the same time, Sam had his hand on Emma Wentworth's waist. He and the girl had been flirting for a few weeks before the dance, and when she was the first one to ask, Sam obviously had to say yes. She did have one of the biggest pair of boobs in the whole school. Her dirty blonde hair fell perfectly at her collar bone. Considered one of the tallest girls in the school, she was still one inch shorter than Sam. Her strapless greyed blue dress cut off mid-thigh mirroring the big eye on her face. Smirking while she leaned forward, lips barely touching Sam's ears, she whispered, "Want to blow this place?"

"W-what?" Sam stuttered back without a breath.

"My parents are gone… we can experiment," the last word said as if a sin. Sam nodded dumbly feeling as a rush of cool air touched his ear after the Emma's breathe was gone. Her smirk grew across her whole face, and gripped Sam's hand hard dragging him out of the gym. While on their way out, he saw four kids on his football team walk in. Mark, Karofsky and Johnny looking fine, a hint of a smile even lingering on their faces, but Puck. He did not look okay. In fact, he looked sick. Sam just shook it off, and mirrored the smirk on the place of Emma's face.

After a few minutes had passed, Blaine was finally done spitting out the blood from his mouth. The sound of feet splashing in the water while running away still echoed in his head. Everything was spinning. After every attempt to stand up, Blaine stumbled back on the ground; head throbbing with a dull ache. He couldn't get centred. He needed to throw up. He didn't know where he was. He couldn't see anything but black. He passed out about ten feet away from the dumpster the footballs player attacked him. A trail of red slowly being washed away from the rain.

Sam was having the time of his life. A doped smile was permanently stapled upon his face, as a warmth swallowed his dick. Everything, except the feeling of pleasure, scattered away like thieve in the light of a police car. God, for her first blow job, Emma was so fucking fine at it. Later, he returned the favor. Not really knowing what do to, but eager to please after hearing sounds of pleasure spilling from Emma's mouth. Her hands digging into the white bed spread upon the queen sized bed. Hanging open, Emma's mouth was red. After the experiment, Sam peaked his head over Emma's shoulder that glistened in the light from sweat. His eyes grew wide as if being pumped with air. The clock read: 12:37am. Un-wrapping his arms from Emma's middle he mumbled a goodbye, and ran out. He biked back home his legs pumping through the ache the entire time.

Blaine eyes lazily blinked open. His head throbbed, still. The sound of silence hung in the air, for the sky was no longer spitting rain, and the thump of muffled music was longer lingering from inside the gym. Blaine was able to stand up this time, and he stumbled his way through the dark to reach his house. No one was home, of course. Raye was probably with her boyfriend, Cooper was in LA and god only knows where his parents are. An almost full bottle of whiskey sat upon the counter isolated from everything else. Blaine snatched it, and ran out to the only place that makes him feel happy, content. That playground.

June 16th, 2009

"What?" Raye had gasped into the phone.

"He never showed up. He's not at home then?" Sam static voice crackled through the phone.

"No, god, our fucking good for nothing parents are on a goddamn business trip," Raye huffed trying to tame the beating her chest is getting from her heart.

"W-well where is he? I'm kind of freaking out over here, man."

Raye dropped the phone, as she scatter towards the door. It was creaking open. Raye was now regretting going to her boyfriend's dorm room last night. When she woke up at 6:37am to a worried text of Sam asking if Blaine was at home, her stomach dropped faster than the blanket around her waist, as she went on a search for her brother. A wave of dread hit her body, and never left. Now, that dread swallowed her entire body whole when she watched her brother walk into the room. Limping through the door, his face was dead. Emotionless. Red faded into brown was stained over his mouth, neck, suit and everywhere. A bruise surrounded his eye, and his lips was split into two.

"Blaine!" Raye choked out a gasp. "What- what happened?"

"I got beat up," he replied stoic; voice low.

"We need to get you to a hospital!"

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. Cleary not. Come on, Blainers," she demanded while dragging him out to her car. Her noise burned from the smell of whiskey, but she ignored it. "I'm going to call Sam, okay? He's also worried about you."

He just nodded from the passenger side of her car. He closed his eyes. Raye let a few tear slip out of the ducts of her eyes.

A mild concussion, two broken ribs, the rest severely bruised, multiple stitches needed to be done, an infected cut and a fractured finger were the only things wrong. Only. Sam's face cringed when the doctor said only. That's still way too much for a 14 year old to go through. Waiting beside him in the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room, Raye bounced her leg up and down. The same way she had the past 2 hours since Blaine had gone into surgery. Sam just sat eyes trained on the wall. Face melted into the same color of the crisp snow colored walls. He couldn't get his mind off of what happened. It was just a Sadie Hawkins dance. Blaine attended with Tina; one of his good girlfriends. When had the promise of the night turn into a threat, a nightmare? When did the beating happen? Where had it happened? Sam felt sick. Dreadful. Selfish. Guilty. Furious. Also, he felt emotionless. There was a tornado of emotions insides of him with no signs of stopping, and yet the eye of the storm seemed to swallow him. Finally a doctor came in, and said with same sympathy he probably uses with everyone, "Are you the family of Blaine Anderson?"

"Yes," Raye replied motioning to Sam, "I'm his sister, and this is his brother."

"Okay, he's still sleeping from the medicine. Good thing you brought him in. his ribs are in a bad state especially after all the walking he did after the fact of the injuries. You guys can come see him."

"Thank you, doctor," Raye said. Sam nodded dumbly stumbling behind the adults.

Before they had reached the door, the doctor asked, "Where are your parents?"

Raye swallowed down anger, "On a business trip… they should be back at some point. Don't worry, I did call them."

"Okay," the doctor nodded, "Come in. if he wakes up, call for a nurse, okay?"

"We will, doc."

The doctor's steps echoed down the busied hallway, and neither person moved. Both taking in the little boy lying in the hospital bed. Sam broke the silence by sighing, "This is my fault."

"No, god no, Sam. It's the idiots that beat him. It has nothing to do you," She emphasized.

"I should've been there. I should've noticed he was gone."

"No, it wasn't your job. No one is blaming you Sam."

"I am," he mumbled under his breathe.

June 17th, 2009

Today, Blaine had been released from the hospital. Sam watched him like a hawk all day, and he picked up a few things. Blaine's screwed up as if a lemon was shoved in his mouth if a sound was too loud. Also, he flinched when someone said sorry, and avoided people's touches. They had been sitting on Sam's couch when Sam had decided to bring something up.

"Dude, who did this to you because you know I will kill them, right?" Sam questioned.

"I told you," he sighed. "I don't remember."

"Bullshit, your just trying to protect someone or something," Sam crunched his eyebrows together. "I'm just trying to figure out why."

Blaine was frozen, and he was hesitant when he said again, "I don't remember, Sam, so drop it."

"I know when you're lying, Blaine."

"No you don't," he snapped back. "Anyways I've got to go. My dad's back, and my sister wants us to talk to him about something."

Sam just grumbled a goodbye. Blaine was lying. He always snapped, looked in on the floor and raised his eyebrows high when he was lying. All the signs were there. The one thing Sam couldn't figure is why exactly was lying? What is he gaining about lying?

June 18th 2009

It was a Monday morning full of mourning. Blaine was standing by his, now, empty locker. Carrying a box full of his school supplies, Blaine stumbled into Sam whose expression dripped hurt.

"Ugh," Blaine tried to gather his thoughts, but couldn't.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

"Ugh," Blaine squeezed his eyes shut. Nothing was squeaked out. He couldn't.

"Are you leaving? Dude," Sam asked. Voice angered and laced with complete hurt.

Taking in a breath that should harder than an old washing machine, Blaine quietly mumbled "You have to realize that I couldn't be here anymore, Sam."

"Couldn't or wouldn't, Blaine, 'cause there's a big difference."

Not looking at Sam Blaine whispered, "Please don't."

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"D-Dalton," Blaine said voice thick and laced with tears.

"Dalton, what the hell dude! That's, like, two hours away. Isn't it a high school anyways?" Sam howled.

"They have a side that's grades 6 to 8, and the other side is a high school, I'm sorry Sam."

Sam crossed his arms, and growled, "If you were sorry you wouldn't leave me here all alone in Lima, with my issues."

"Find someone to help you, Sam. You're not alone because you've got an amazing family to help you," Blaine pleaded.

"Well, you could have told me you were going to switch schools instead of doing this, Jesus Christ, I'm never going to see you here at this school again," Sam's tone of voice melted into sorrow.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm hardly going to see you."

"I really am so sorry, Sam"

"Okay, just-just promise that you'll text me," Sam sighed rubbing his face with his hand.

"Yeah, of course I will. Your my best friend, and that's never going to change," Blaine for the first time today.

"Yeah," Sam swallowed, "Whatever… the bells going to go, and I have to go to class."

Blaine watched Sam's back vanish into a classroom, and he didn't let the tears building up in his eyes spill over until he reached his sisters car. She rubbed his back for an umpteenth minutes before driving towards Westerville. She didn't need to ask what had happened.

Once they pulled up in the parking lot of the old gorgeous building, they were introduced to the principle, and given a dorm room. Dalton was immense, and it smirked at Blaine daunting him. He just kept breathing, smiling and nodding along to what the principal had to say. His father had agreed to let Blaine go to Dalton academy not because of its no bullying policy, but because of the classes, and the fact it's an all-boys school. Apparently hanging out with girls was making Blaine Feminine. After his sister left with a lingering kiss on the cheek, Blaine was getting settled for the last few weeks of school in his dorm room which he would be rooming with a guy named Thad Harwood. He sounded nice enough. Good student, and was captain of the junior Warblers. It was a glee club that didn't do competition unlike the real warblers which the principal had described as pretty much local celebrities. Blaine looked at himself in the mirror, and just glared at the broken boy growling at him back. _I'm fine. I'm okay._ The door had shrieked as it was opened, and Blaine heart starting punching his chest repeatedly. Blaine's vision was blurred with Noah's face, and he felt ghosts of rain drops on his skin.

"Hey, you must be Blaine. I'm Thad," a voice from somewhere sounded strained. "Hey, are you okay?" A gentle hand on his shoulder forced him back to reality.

"Pardon," Blaine said after blinking.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about it."

"Okay," Thad sounded un-sure. "Anyways, I have a question…"

"Go for it," Blaine replied.

"Do you like Harry Potter?" He asked with a smile brighter than the sun, and that was the start of their budding friendship.

June 28th 2009

Dropping his final test in the basket at the front of the classroom, Blaine smiled. He was happy. He texted Sam every day since he left, but last night they had facetimed and made amends on what was a cracked relationship. Sam apologized about his outburst in the hallway, and for being so distant lately. Blaine had forgiven him with ease, and told Sam he was sorry for leaving so sudden. Sam still pushed about Blaine lying about who had attacked him. Blaine had admitted he was lying, and for Sam to please stop pushing him, so he did. Also, against Blaine's protests, Sam apologized for not being there for him during the dance.

Strutting down the hallway with an extra hop in his step, Blaine ran into Thad who had mirrored his grin.

"Someone's looking happy," He said.

"Someone's feeling happy," Blaine exclaimed.

Thad patted his shoulder, and he replied, "Good."

 **Authors note: sorry for the short chapter… got hit with writers block. Whoops.**


	5. Chapter 5

September 2nd 2012

The whole hallway rumbled with whispers and hushed rumours of the new transfer kid. Of course if this had been any other transfer kid no one would be talking, but this was Kurt Hummel's boyfriend. Sam had wanted to meet him, and make sure he was good for Kurt. Considering the fact that Sam was living in the household of the Hummel's and Hudson's he and Kurt had grown close together. After losing his job, Sam's father wanted to pack and move down to Kentucky. Kurt had been the only one of his friends to pick up on the fact that he didn't want to go, and even though Kurt had already helped him and his family out more than enough time, he still offered for Sam to stay with them over the school year. With Burt now in congress alongside owning his tire shop, they had been spilling over with money that could be used on Sam. Sam was forever thankful. Not only had he not lost his friends, but Sam also got to continue playing for a championship winning football teams. Plus, he could keep his job helping out at youth football camps and conditioning in Westerville.

His stomach had left his body when he saw who Kurt was talking to. His heart had punched his chest vigorously when he heard the oh so familiar voice say, "because I can't stand to be apart from the person I love."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Sam heard a roar of footsteps behind him. He turned around to see a herd of red jacketed football players armed with slushies. Sam stumbled fast behind them tripping over his own feet. After the sloshing sound of ice splashing on the ground, Sam poked his head to see Blaine Anderson in the flesh bathed in blue slushies.

"Welcome to the school butt boy," They snickered at Azimos thundering voice making an announcement. Kurt had glared, and grasped onto Blaine's bicep digging his nail into the flesh. They both walked past Sam, and a gasp stuttered out of Blaine's already trembling chin.

He breathed out, "Sam?"

"You know him?" Kurt questioned with crunched eyebrows.

"No," Sam said sharply. "No."

"Okay, sure, come on Blaine lets go get you cleaned up," Kurt replied. Sam walked away trying to erase the hurt that flashed in Blaine's eyes. He avoided those hurt eyes for a year, and he could do it for another. Right?

Sam, of course, saw him later in the day in the choir room. If Kurt was in glee club, Blaine definitely would be too. Not one muscle of Sam's had flinched when Blaine sat in the chair touching the chair he was sitting atop of. He felt Blaine's glare trying to tear the side of his head in half, but Sam ignored him with a pounding that was really hard to ignore. Will stepped into the room immediately silencing the hum of chatter. With a blue whiteboard marker, he wrote 'New Year' on the board.

"And with that, we also have a new student. Blaine take the floor," Mr. Shue clapped, and his spot in the middle of the room was replaced with a different version of Sam's old best friend. His hair still trapped in a lock of gel, but it was longer. He was taller, had more muscles and his cheeks were less cubby smoothed over by a jaw line. Some scars were still there, though.

"Hello, my name is Blaine Anderson, and I'm a transfer from Dalton Academy." Sam heard Santana cough something about a gay school. "And I'm going to sing," Sam watched as Blaine thickly swallowed a lump when his eyes glazed over Puck. His eyes spaced out before he finished, "I'm going to sing 'Can't take my eyes off you' by Frankie Valley."

The saxophones voices pooled the whole room, and Blaine serenaded Kurt. The song was so painfully obvious for Kurt. Sam was impressed by the voice Blaine has constructed over the years. _So his dad had let him go for music,_ Sam thought, _wait! I'm not supposed to know him._ Sam shook his head, and kept avoiding the pleading eyes of the singer in the middle of the room. Once the last note hit, Mr. Shue stood up, and clapped alongside the applause of the room. He said, "That was amazing, Blaine! This year we're going to crush nationals!" A round of cheers slipped out of the kids. "To start the New Year, we're all going to work harder and more consistently. I know last year I got a little side tracked, but this year we're all going to be focused."

Mr. Shue continued his speech, but Sam hadn't caught any of it. He did catch the mumbled voice of Blaine say, "I can't believe you."

September 7th 2012

Every day was the same. Sam would avoid looking directly into Blaine's eyes, but still purposely trample him with his shoulder in the hallway. In glee club Sam would as if he had just met Blaine for the first time alongside everyone else. Not one word from Sam has been said to Blaine. Today, he and Finn were, for the first time, the first two in the room. Finn grumbled, from their spot in the middle of the chairs, "I really don't like this Blaine guy."

"I know what you mean, man," Sam replied not really lying.

"I mean last year Kurt and Rachel made us go on double dates, but he and I had never really interacted. Now he's everywhere!" Finn exclaimed. "He's always over, now, he didn't come over once over the summer. Why now?"

Sam knew that Blaine was always at the Hummel, but Sam was always, purposely, at Mercedes when he was there. "Yep, he's annoying."

"And now he's all of a sudden Mr. Shue's favorite student, and I bet he's going to get all the solos this year. He's not even that good of a singer!"

"I get you, dude," Sam said lying. He had thought Blaine was an amazing singer.

"He's so preppy. I bet his gets everything he wants from his rich daddy. He thinks he's better than everyone else," Finn scoffed.

Sam was now lying through his teeth, "He should have some respect. Ya know? Not everyone's father can buy them stupid sweater vests and bowties… he has it so easy."

Finn had just agreed, and gave Sam a fist bump. People started to trickle in now filling in the empty spots around them. All the girls gasped, plus Kurt, and pounced on Blaine when he strutted in with a bruise trapping his right eye. Kurt kissed it gently, and Blaine polity declined all the girls' requests to get ice. He laughed of their concern, and explained that a wall corner and an early morning don't mix well.

"And now he gets everyone's attention. He is such a little stuck up rich prick who has everyone wrapped around his little finger," Finn's grumbled voice mixed in with his breathe. Mr. Shue stepped into the room sending everyone back to their seats like robbers in the light if a cop car. Mercedes lips on his brought him back to reality.

"You okay?" She asked with eyebrows drawn together in worry.

"Yeah," Sam answered never removing his eyes from the black on Blaine's eye. After swallowing the frog that appeared in his throat, Sam finished, "Yeah, I'm fine."

September 8th 2012

"So what's up with you and Sam?" Kurt asked.

"What do you mean?"

Kurt just look at him pointedly, "You guys obviously have some history."

Blaine shut his text book with a loud thump, and put dropped it so it was sleeping on the carpeted floor. Looking down at his and Kurt's legs hugging each other on the bed, Blaine just shrugged.

"Well, he ignores you completely, but yesterday when he saw your black eye, he looked really worried," Kurt sings the last word.

"Really?" Blaine perked up, "He did, are you sure?"

"Ha! I knew it!" Kurt clapped enthusiastically.

Blaine lips dripped into a frown, "Knew what?"

"You just proved to me that you and Sam have history. So tell me about it," Kurt said head falling atop of Blaine's, now, lonely legs.

"No, no, I, ugh, I can't tell you…"

"Awe, come on honey, please?" Kurt pleaded flopping onto his stomach tucking his head on top of his forearms that were leaning up against Blaine's thighs.

"Kurt," Blaine looked at him.

"Okay, okay I won't pressure you to tell me," Kurt said. "But do know that I will love no matter your woes, and will be a shoulder to lean on always."

"Awe, I love you too. So much," Blaine cooed bending down to bump his lips against Kurt's soft ones. "Okay, I'll tell you the basics. Sam and I were best friends, but when I transferred over to Dalton I guess we grew apart."

"You guess? Sam hasn't even acknowledged you once," Kurt said with one eyebrow arching up into his forehead.

"Okay, we really, really grew apart. Can we please drop it now?" Blaine asked with eyes glistening.

The corner of Kurt's lips gently drew into a smile. Drawing Blaine into a kiss, Kurt mumbled lips bouncing into Blaine's lips, "Of course."

Blaine replied, "We should get back to work."

Without any breath Kurt said, "I thought we were."

"Oh, you're being cheeky," Blaine said with a smirk before he attacked Kurt like an animal with only his lips.

September 9th 2012

Blaine could ignore the glares of Finn. He could ignore the shoves of the football players, and their hateful words. He could even ignore all of Sam's complete ignorance of his existence. He couldn't ignore this. Red ice chunks dripped into his eyes through his eye lids, and crawled all over his clothing onto the ground. An empty that had just been thrown at him was in the tight grip of Sam Evens. He couldn't ignore that. Tears were mixing in with the slushie. He looked up, and spit out words dripping with hurt, "What the _hell_ Sam."

"It's a McKinley tradition to slushie people when you don't like them. I'm just holding it up," he replied.

"How'd you even know I'd be here after school?" Blaine asked. Sam shrugged standing there casual with his arms, now, crossed together.

"Heard you and Kurt talking about you getting math help from a teacher after school."

Blaine glared, and growled out, "Just fuck off Sam."

"Whatever, Blaine," He growled back.

Blaine stressed, "You fucked off for a whole year… why'd you stop? Why-why are you being like this? You're so cold."

Sam walked towards him, "I guess I'm looking for something that I still haven't got from you."

"I'm not going to apologize, Sam, you know this," Blaine huffed. "I'm just going to go now. Take care."

"Whatever… at least I held up my end of the bargain, Blaine."

"I didn't ask you to."

Blaine walked past Sam, and shoved his shoulder with his own. Once he was met with the bathroom down the hall, Blaine let tears slip out of eyes and run down his cheek. He knew this was his fault. He turned the tap on, and he kept the water cold. It was numbing. Hands picking out ice chunks shook violently. Breathes coming in fast also shook violently like an old ratted washing machine. Blaine texted Kurt: Can you come get me?

He phone hollered nearly seconds later with a text from Kurt: Yeah, of course.

Blaine crawled into Kurt's car with eyes rimmed red like a rose. Also, all the gel was washed out, so his hair was a jungle of tangled curls. Kurt looked him over with his forehead wrinkled, and his eyes twinkled. The car grumbled as it was turned on, and Kurt asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You want to talk about it?"

"I just," Blaine leaned his head back against the seat shutting his eyes, "I just really fucked something up."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: this is the longest chapter… by far. This one is very heavy focused on Blaine, but the next one will be more in the perspective of Sam. I promise. Sorry that the last one was so short, and thanks for the few reviews I have! They mean a lot, and please leave more if you want. Like, follow and all that jazz. Lastly, I don't Glee or any of its characters. Enjoy!**

September 27th 2012

Violating his nostril was the intoxicating smell of baked turkey and smashed potatoes, as Blaine took timid steps into his house. A cup of filled to the brim with red wine was dancing alongside his mother in the kitchen. She pulled out plates, washed the dishes, seasoned food around her with salt and hide cutlery in their respected places. Though, doing all this hadn't hide the way she would stumble over feet, of the way her hands would just miss grabbing something. Blaine's father sat downstairs watching some sports game ignoring his son, as he does evening until dinner time.

"Hello, how was your friend's house?" his mother called from the kitchen. Blaine's face puckered up as if he smelt sour milk. He didn't know of it was from the way his mother's words were dragged on and slurred or the way she never calls Kurt his boyfriend. Probably both.

Blaine replied, "What are you cooking?"

"A turkey dinner," she replied. Humming an acknowledgment Blaine stepped into the kitchen, and he dropped his bag with a dull thump atop a counter.

"Why so fancy?" he questioned. What he really meant under those words was _why isn't the maid cooking?_

"Your sister said she had an announcement."

"Where is she by the way?"

"Upstairs somewhere," his mother slurred while tripping over her foot into the counter. Blaine just walked away nodding. He padded up the endlessly long staircase, and took a left in search of his sister's room. Giggles were spilling out from under the tall oak door alongside moans. A smirk curled onto Blaine lips, as he twisted the cold door knob and tumbled into the room faster than a chased bunny. Once he was in, two head jerked up eyes wide with terror.

"I thought dad put in an open door policy," Blaine said voice teasing.

"I, uh, I-I Raye?" Blaine's sister boyfriend stuttered.

Crawling out from underneath the well-dressed man underneath her, Raye sat up on her bed, and said mirroring the teasing tone of Blaine, "And I though you just came back from Kurt's… is that why you're walking funny?"

"N-no! No, Certainly not," With a blood red color attacking his cheeks down to his neck, Blaine said. Giggles were no longer coming from the couple, but laughs that make their chest bounce in delight. Blaine huffed and scuttled onto the black velvet king sized back, so that he was sandwiched between the two young adults. Josef shuffled across the bed bouncing on it to open up some space in the middle. He flashed a smile so luminous that the sun had been envious. Josef, Raye's boyfriend, was infatuated with Blaine. Always patting him on the shoulder, and begging Raye if they could invite Blaine to hang out with them. Blaine had shared the same infatuation. Not only was Josef gorgeous, chest nut hair always fluffed up to perfection and body hugged with not ever sized muscles, but he was also a Harry Potter fanatic. Too many times Ray found her boyfriend and bother lounging in the couch buried in junk food watching Harry Potter for the thousandth time. Joseph emerald eyes glistening with delight when he and Blaine joke about the same thing. His wide jaw melted perfect into a chin that had a dip in it, and a light scruff was sprinkled all over it.

"So? Has Kurt let you watch Harry Potter with him?" Josef asked.

A vast over dramatic sigh came out from Blaine's mouth before he said, "No, I'm still working on it."

Josef just patted his back, and replied, "That's okay. No one can replace me."

"Of course," Blaine smiled.

"Oh my lord! You guys are such nerds… you should try watching something good," Raye grumbled at them.

"Oh, cause the 'The Vampire Diaries' is so good," Blaine retorted.

"Shut up," She said playfully smacking her brother's arm with vicious slap. Quieted after a call for dinner from Blaine's mother the room was abandoned for the kitchen. Once the trio reached the table, Blaine's father looked up at them with the same look of dismay the past five years. He looked Blaine up and down, and nearly growled lip curled up into a sneer. Blaine sat down between his sister and mother with his head down. After all the food was piled spilling over the tiny plates, Blaine's mother said in lazy low voice, "What was the, ugh, announcement you had, Raye?"

The scratching of forks scraping across the plate silenced, as Raye said, "I have talked this out with Josef, and it a while for him to agree, but I've decided to join the army."

It stopped. Blaine's heart stopped. All the air rushed out of his body, and he gasped, "You're what?"

"I'm joining the army," she repeated after a deep breathe.

"Well, I'm proud of you," Blaine's father bellowed. "It'll be good for you to get out of this town, and do something good for this society." He looked pointedly at Blaine, eyes flared with the heat of anger. _Just breathe,_ Blaine thinks. _Just breathe it's not that hard._

"Are you sure you want to do this? You're still so young," Blaine's mother chimed in with a fresh glass filled to the rim with a white wine, now.

"Yes, I'm sure," She said sending darken eyes towards her father. _Breathe,_ Blaine repeated.

Blaine's mother's lip hesitantly lifted up into a gentle smile, and she patted the top of Raye's hand; she said softly, "We'll miss you."

"What will you be doing?" Her father asked.

"I'll be a nurse."

He nodded, and said, "You're quiet Blaine."

"I'm shocked," he choked out with no breathe present. _Come on, just. Breathe._ "I can't believe you going to be, gone," he whispered the last word as if it were a sin.

"I'll be back to visit. Please don't worry about that you'll still see me," Raye assured.

"Blaine, keep it together. Real men don't cry," Blaine's father scolded with eyebrows drawn together. _Why can't I breathe?_ Blaine thought with a constricting chest collapsing atop itself.

"Whatever," he grumbled, and his chair shrieked out while he pulled it out from under the table. Blaine stumbled up to his room feeling tears slip over his lower eye lids ignoring the shouts of his father yelling at him to get back downstairs. _Breathe, breathe, breathe._ The cries downstairs melted into a girl's voice. Blaine ignored that too. Numb crash over his body like a wave and pooled up. It was the first night in a while he was able to ignore the arguments of his parents in the room next to his. It was the first night in a while Blaine cried himself to sleep. Raye was going to be gone in a week, and he doesn't know how to feel. He doesn't know how to breathe. Incessant knocks were pouring out of the bedroom doors mouth, but was ignored by the boy in the bed. Maybe less ignored but more of not being able to focused. All attention was on calming the hitched breathes, the waterfall of tears and snot running down to his lips. _Why can't I breathe?_

October 1st 2012

"Kurt! Come play with us!"

"I'll be up in a minute!" Kurt hollered back to the voices upstairs. This was the average night. Kurt would be cleaning off the mess scattered in the kitchen after supper with two voices begging him to play upstairs in the background. Scrubbing off the last ketchup stain on the last plate, Kurt heard another voice bellowing him to come up stairs. After placing the plate behind the line of cutlery on the drying rack, Kurt bounded upstairs to Sam and Finn's room. Cheers of joy welcomed Kurt into the room.

"Okay-okay, I can't play too long though because I have some chemistry homework," Kurt said sitting down between the boys on the bed.

"Wait! You're actually doing it?" Finn asked as if it were the stupidest idea ever.

"Duh," Kurt said. "Un-like you I actually care about getting good grades. You should try it sometime."

"Come on! Stop arguing, and let's break out some Mario Kart, dudes," Sam exclaimed cutting off Finn's huffing.

"Don't call me dude… we've been over this, Sam," Kurt grumbled. A disk was slipping into the Wii console, and the television in front of the boys blinked awake after Finn turned it on. For the hundredth time, Kurt picked to play with princess peach. The other two would tease him just the every other night, and he said his usually rebuttal, "At least she can get first place un-like you losers."

"You know what," Sam said. "I'm going to play as toad today. Mix some things up."

"Blaine's always toad," Kurt says.

Sam's reply had no hesitation, "I know."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him, and Finn stared at him face glistening in curiosity. Both of them trained their eyes on Sam. Kurt saw to panic that flared like a fire in Sam's eyes. Scrambled to find words, Sam spat out, "I-I, it's because, ugh, Kurt told me before, duh."

Crossing one leg over top the other, Kurt mumbled a barley legible, "Sure-sure."

"What was the Kurt?" Finn asked.

Kurt dragged out a sigh, "Oh, nothing."

"Finn, do you remember Blaine from elementary school?" Sam asked.

"Nope," With eyes, now, focused on the screen, Finn said. "Did he go to the same on as us?"

"I don't know… I was just curious. Kurt what elementary school did you go to?"

 _Nice cover up there, bud,_ Kurt thought; he replied with, "Saint Francis, why?"

"I was just curious."

October 7th 2012

This was Glee club. This was not a 1940's war zone. But if that were so, then why were there bullets flying out of people's mouth faster than bullets shot out of a gun. The tension had started heating up after Blaine strutted into the room. Kurt right on his trail. The tension started to bubble once Finn noticed the adoration plastered in Kurt's eyes, as he watched Blaine perform his weekly song. When Will patted Blaine on the back, and he offered for that to be featured in sectionals, the tension boiled. Boiled so high that it spilling over the entire room. That's when Finn snapped.

"Of course little miss rich kid over here gets a solo at sectionals," he hollered.

"What?" Blaine asked a little breathless. Shock smeared all over his face.

"Did your daddy give Mr. Shue a donation, so that you could have a solo at sectional?" Finn sneered.

"No, actually," Blaine said sitting down next to Kurt. "But thanks for the false inquiry."

Sam grumbled, "There he goes again with his non-sense fancy ass words."

Everyone's head peaked up like gophers with interest. Sam was considered one of the, if not the, nicest guy in glee. Compliments tumbled out of his mouth more often than songs played on the radio. He smiled every day at everyone. He joked every day with anyone.

Blaine had retorted, "At least I can understand actually English, Sam."

Maybe this was a war zone.

The shock was surfaced atop everyone's face now. Blaine, dapper Blaine, was now arguing with Sam, nice guy Sam. Finn's eyebrows were even flown high up into his forehead in shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry that not everyone's parents can afford for them to go to a ditzy boarding school."

"Okay," Santana stared. "What in the hell is going on here?"

Blaine turned around in his chairs, his eyes never leaving Sam, and he said, "I don't know. Why don't you ask Sam?"

"I-"

Blaine cut off Sam with sharp words, "Or ask Finn as to what reason he has to not like me."

"And there you go again with your dumbass fancy language that literally no one understands!"

Mr. Shue chimes in, "How about we move on, so that we can continue rehearsal?"

"So what?" Finn snaps standing up abruptly. "So you can preppy over here steal everyone's spotlight even though he's new."

Mr. Shue tried to calm him down, as he said with a tone that oozed composure, "He's not trying to steal anyone's spotlight. It was a mere suggestion that the song he sang was a contender for sectionals."

"Come on," Finn said looking around the room. "Puck? Don't you think he's messing up the thunder? Going around thinking that he's better than everyone else."

"I don't think I'm better than anyone else!" Blaine whined. "And could you please sit down? This doesn't have to turn into a fight."

"Okay guys," Mr. Shue yelled grabbing everyone's attention on the mist of tension. "I'm going to step out of the room for a bit, and when I come back, I want you all to be ready to rehearse. Okay?" The room rumbled with murmured "yes's" and nods. Tension choked the room alongside the sound of silence. Plastered on many people's faces, still, was complete confusion. Eyebrows were crunched together so close that they were almost touching. Mouths were dropping almost to the point of the floor. Mercedes and Kurt both rubbing the tense arms of their boyfriends in a calming way. Sam and Blaine dueling each other in a heated glaring battle.

"Okay," Rachel broke the silence. "What's going here? Sectionals is soon, and this tension is cancerous for the competition that we need to be winning."

Finn's arms slipped into a crossed position, and he replied, "I just really don't glee club to be turning into the Blaine Anderson show." His voice was low, as he grumbled.

Kurt chimed, "What you meant to say was that you're jealous of my boyfriend. We all know Finn. You can come out of the closet now."

"Whatever," Finn grumbled back mirroring the same low voice.

"Okay!" Rachel said clapping her hands like a maniac. "Now that that's resolved lets go get Mr. Shue, and continue with rehearsal."

"Okay, man hands, that was clearly not the main issue here," Santana motioned between Sam and Blaine. "These two are about ready to jump each other asses, and I don't think it has something to do with glee club."

Rachel looked between the two boys, who sat un-moving from their previous positions, and she drops her jaw dropped fast like a fair ride drops. She says, "Yeah, okay, what's going on here."

"I just don't like that fact that Blaine here gets everything he wants."

"Maybe I don't like people who ignore people for an entire year, Sam"

"Well, I don't like people who leave people behind."

"I had to, Sam, why you can't get it past your thick skull," Blaine spat sprouting into a stand.

"Oh, just shut up!" Sam snapped mirroring Blaine's position. Both bodies vibrating with angst. Chests puffing up and collapsing down from angered breathes. Smoke nearly flaring out from under their noses.

"Sam, what's going on here?" Mercedes asked shifting away from her boyfriend.

"Yeah Sam," Blaine sneered. "Why don't you go hunch over a toilet again?"

The tension in the room was bursting at the seams trying to find a way out of the room. Sam, with venom laced heavily in his voice, snapped, "Shut the fuck up princess." In a blink of an eye, turn away and you miss it, a blonde haired body threw itself atop a brunette. They rolled around on the bottom step of the stairs for an umpteenth seconds before everyone shock away their shock. All the kids in the room pulled them a part before Blaine sprinted out of the room. He ran legs moving before his brain caught up with his actions. When he stopped, he faced his car, and felt the tremble of his fist beside him. The calls of his name behind him also caught up to his brain. The feeling of someone's arms around him was, now, caught up two. His brain noticed the way his knees had no feeling, as if they were numb. What the hell just happened? When the hell did glee turn into a violent war zone? Bullets thrown from people's mouth hitting Blaine's brain like real ones. At least his brain caught up to the fact that Kurt put him into his car. At least his brain hadn't caught up to the idea that his sister wasn't there to comfort him anymore.

October 8th 2012

"Blaine, what the hell happened yesterday?" Kurt asked

Blaine replied, "Can we forget it, please?"

"Nope," Kurt said emphasising the p. "I forgot about it yesterday, and we are alone right now. You need to spill on whatever happened to you and Sam because there's definitely a lot more drama than 'we fell apart'"

A sigh was exhaled put of Blaine's nose. They sat with a mere quarter of inch apart on Blaine's white leather coaches in the downstairs family room. Though, not once had the Andersons ever used together for its real purpose. Grabbing the remote, Blaine blackened the television screen that was playing a random reality show. "You have to swear on your life that you won't tell anyone," Blaine.

"Of course," Kurt assured. "I promise."

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you, but this doesn't get back to anyone. Not even Sam. I don't need him hating me more than he already does," Blaine said his golden eyes staring directly into the pure sea of Kurt's. Intently waiting for the courage to just tell the story.

"Blaine," Kurt said. "I promise." Shifting even closer to Blaine, so that the air between them was barely hovering their bodies.

After a hitched breath, Blaine cleared his throat, and started, "Sam pretty much saved me in middle school. He was my only friend. I guess I had just wanted to return the favour because I wasn't the only one between us that had a problem."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked with worry dripping off of his face.

"Sam liked to throw up."

August 28th 2011

The summer had been a beautifully wonderful distraction. A distraction filled to the brim with movie nights, swimming pools and adventures bike rides. A distraction from the fact that the two best friends were separating into two different schools in the next week. They both had tried to ignore that fact, but it was hard when Blaine was packing for Dalton and Sam was back-to-school shopping. A sense of dread hung over top of the boys like an immense storm cloud. It had increased when Blaine found Sam hunched over the toilet for the fourth time that month.

"Sam, please, this needs to stop," Blaine had pleaded.

"No, no, you don't get it," He grumbled back. A hand reaching to his forehead when he stumbled from getting off of the floor. His face was one of a ghost.

Blaine replied, "Then explain it Sam, please. I don't want to see you in pain anymore."

"I'm just not good enough." That was all Sam ever gave him. That was the only explanation.

They both sat upon Sam's worn out coach in the living room, and Blaine's thought were running around as if they were in a marathon. What was Sam going to do when Blaine was gone? When his one support system was gone. Was it going to get worst? Was he going to have to go to the hospital? Will he be okay? The conclusion that Blaine had reached was that Sam needed help. How was he going to get? Blaine was going to have to do something that was never done by him before. He was going to have go break a promise he made with Sam.

October 8th 2012

"I told his parents," Blaine said to a hand covered jaw dropped and wide eyed Kurt.

Kurt breathed out, "I can't believe it. He seems like such a confident person."

"It's funny how many different masks there are out there."

August 30th 2011

"You told them," Sam had said only a mere second after Blaine swung open the front door to a violent knock.

Blaine replied, "What?"

"Don't act so dumb Anderson. Why the fuck would you do that?" Sam had screamed back.

Blaine had to take a step back, and blink out the guilt pooling in his stomach. After a shake of his head, Blaine said hushed, "I was scared."

"Scared of what, princess?" His voice raised. Blaine not only was blinking back guilt, but tears as well were being forced to be gone. Sam really knew how to rip Blaine's heart so it hurt. He knew how much Blaine's dad calling him princess melted away every good feeling. It was worst when Sam said it, though.

"I was scared of what would happen if you didn't have a support system," Blaine pleaded.

"Well, princess." Blaine crinkled his face up into hurt. "Now I have to go to the hospital with parents who are probably not happy with me."

"I-I'm sorry, Sam."

"No you're not."

"I'm sorry that you feel the need to this to yourself. You're perfect, and the best friend I'll ever have," Blaine said pleaded so hard that he could've dropped down to his knees.

"The best friend you've ever had. Not have," Sam growled.

"No," Blaine scrambled towards Sam. "No. Please you don't mean that."

"You couldn't keep to one promise that I wanted you to."

"I was just trying to help you!"

Sam stalked back towards the door, and replied with a soft, "You only helped my misery." Blaine could only stare at the shut door with an echo of the loud slam ringing through the house. That was it.

October 8th 2012

"It was the right thing to do, Blaine," Kurt had said delicately.

"It cost me my best friend," Blaine sighed.

"Not saying anything could have also cost you your best friend." Kurt wrapped his hands around Blaine's shoulder, so that they melted together into a hug that fit perfect like a puzzle.

Blaine mumbled into Kurt's shirt, "I wish that you weren't right."

October 9th 2012

"Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Outing Blaine."

With thin eyes, Santana flipped her head towards Puck. The wind of the fall whistled through the footballs field to the metal stands. Where two figures shivering in their hoodies sat with crestfallen faces.

"Why are you bringing that up now?" she asked voice strained.

"Well," Puck replied with the same tone. "I've been meaning to for a while. It just took me a lot of time to figure out what to say."

Santana snarled, "No shit, school's been in for a month."

"You're avoiding the question," Puck said shifting on the metal bench that's oozing a cold bite on his ass.

"What did you do to him?"

"W-what do you mean?" Puck said with, now, widened eyes.

Santana lazily shrugged one shoulder, "The first time he saw you he reacted the same way he did with me, and now we're the only one's he avoids. Other than Evens."

"It's none of your bee's wax so butt out," he spat at her.

"Whatever," she said voice idle. "You don't tell me. I won't tell you. Simple."

After a few minutes of silence, Puck huffed out a puff of air that turned into steam in the evening. He looked at her face so pained it was as if his parents just passed. "Okay," He said. "I beat him up so bad he had to transfer, and I pretty much fucked up his friendship with Evens. And yes I regret it so fucking much."

"Huh?" she said. "Well, you pretty much fucked him up."

"I didn't ask for your opinion. You do me now."

"No thanks," she replied.

He huffed, again, "Stop deflecting."

With eye trained on the ground, she visually swallowed a thick thump in her throat. Coming out in a tight voice that sound oh so close to cracking Santana said, "Of course I regret it. He didn't deserve that. No one does. It was the shittiest thing I've ever done."

"Well, I never though the day would come where Santana Lopez was remotely sentimental."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Wanna fuck?" Puck asked slipping out of the bubbled of hurt that swallowed them.

Santana stood up while saying, "Not today."


	7. Chapter 7

October 16th 2012

He's not smart. He's not talented. He's not special. He's not perfect, but is anyone really perfect. _Blaine is,_ Sam thought driving back to the Hummel's from football practice. _I'm not good at anything,_ Sam continues thinkinggripping the steering wheel deathly tight as if he's trying to strangle it.

But that's kind of a lie.

His body is good. Does that make him good at something? He's good at making people notice him. Well, notice his abs. Maybe it was his abs that made him special just like Rachel's voice makes her special, and Kurt's fashion makes his special in a way. If that's the truth, then his distinctness, his one talent, is slowly fading. The tiniest bit of fat started to pool on Sam's skin trying to hide the muscles. It was still fat. Sam was still not good at anything. With nothing but fat on his stomach, Sam would be nothing soon.

A buzz from his phone sent all of Sam's thought scattered like thieves in the light of a police. The text from Burt read: Hey bud, Kurt went shopping with Rachel, and Carole and I are at diner with Finn. Are you going to be okay for food?

Perfect.

The house would be empty. A sigh brushed past Sam's spit wetted lips. He types back: Nah I'll find something have fun with the family!

Empty house. Lots of time. A lonesome toilet. No family buzzing around him eyeing his fingers like poison. No stupid best friend to tell his parents. Perfect.

Sam flies his way into the driveway of the Hummel's, and runs into the house. Once he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, he forgets all about the oath of not puking or starving himself. Brushing back the scatter of blonde hair on his forehead Sam crawled his fingers to the back of his throat. One gag, two gags, three gags and the show starts everything is like a well-practiced dance.

August 25th 2012

"Sam, are you all packed?" Sam's mother hollered up the vacant stairs.

A voice travelled down the stairs, "Yeah! Just let me grab one more thing."

The car in the driveway beside the 'For Sale Sign' was trapped in a fort of suitcases, pillows and guitars. The rest of Sam's family had left for Kentucky the earlier part of today. Of course there was a hearty goodbye finalized by tears in everyone's eyes. There were two members of the family left; Sam and his mother. Sam tumbles down the stairs with a tiny wooden framed picture wrapped in his hand. Together, Sam and his mother walk out of the house, and their hit with the overly bright hot sun of the summer.

"I hadn't known you wanted to bring that?" Sam's mother asked gesturing to the photo.

Sam looked a young Blaine smiling up at him with his arms draped around a just as young Sam, and he replied, "I couldn't just leave it behind, you know?"

"You could have just thrown it away, you know?" Sam's mother smiled.

Stroking the edges of the chocolate frame, Sam whispered, "Well, I couldn't just do that either."

"I know," Sam's mother hugging his shoulders. "Are you ever going to forgive him? For whatever he did that you still haven't told me…"

Sam just shrugged, as they started pilling the mountain of luggage into the good old family SUV; it was the same color as dirtied snow. That's what happens when a family can't afford to buy a new car. After all the luggage filled the car, the two family members pile into the car. Sam's mother turned to him, and said words oozing with worry, "Remember what you promised with your father and I, right?"

"Yes mom," Sam grumbled.

"Hey," She cooed. "We're just worried." Sam's eyes tumble around, as his mother sighs. She says, "I wish you could see how big of a problem this is."

"It's not like I had bulimia or anything."

"Sam," She sighs once again. "Maybe you should google the definition of bulimia…."

"Whatever," Sam grumbles back exhausted of the conversation. He hates the fact that everyday not only are there worried eyes all over his fingers, but these conversations are incessantly brought up. These conversation of 'Bulimia' and 'anorexia'. It's not like he had a disorder. He just hated being fat, and took an extreme level to lose the weight. It was all controlled.

"Just… make one last promise to me, please?"

"Okay," Sam says. "I promise not to starve myself or make myself throw up, and I never break promises."

October 16th 2012

Oh well.

When barely anything was left in the toilet, Sam tried again. All his focus was on the three fingers saying hi to the back of his throat. Sam hadn't heard the door squealing open or slamming shut. He hadn't heard the calls of Kurt's name. He hadn't heard the thunderous noise of someone clumping up the stairs. He hadn't noticed anyone was in the house until someone was poking at his shoulder, and Sam looked up to see shadow looming over him.

Oh well.

"Sam," the shadow said. "I thought you stopped."

"Go away," Sam grumbled, as his knees cracked when he stood up. Facing the shadow, Sam noticed the drawn tightly together bushy eyebrows. God, how many times has he seen that face of worry?

"Sam." It says tightly.

"Please, just. Go. Away." Sam growls back.

The shadow sighs defeat, and he asked, "Do you know where Kurt is?"

"Yes," Sam said. "He went shopping. He didn't tell you?"

"No," Scuffing his feet on the old fashioned 1950s pink and brown bathroom tiles, the shadow says. "I was going to surprise him with these." The shadow held up an umpteenth flowers attached to piece of cheesecake from Breadsticks. "For getting the officer in the play, but I think he's a little mad at me for getting Tony. Can you tell him when he gets back that these are for him, and I'll leave a little note?"

"Sure," Sam says grabbing it, and brushing past the shadow into the hallway. The shadow looms over him, as they both walk down the stairs and into the kitchen. Stared at by Sam the shadow grabs a pen from a drawer alongside a lined yellow piece of paper from atop the counter. The shadow scratches out:

Kurt,

Hey! Sorry I wasn't able to catch you today… I probably should have texted to see when you got home. I just wanted to congratulate you on your part. You. Are. Amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, and no one could have asked for a better officer krupke. I know your feel down, and that shouldn't happen to such a wonderful person, but you will absolutely bring the house down. I love you! And I hope that I will get the chance to see your gorgeous face tomorrow!

Sincerely,

Blaine

After the piece of paper was shoved into Sam's hand, Blaine left silently like a quiet cat thumping out of a room. Sam stood there swaying like willow thinking of the fact that Kurt was mad at Blaine. Maybe Blaine wasn't perfect at everything. He wasn't perfect at upholding the perfect relationship. A buzz from his phone held his thoughts. From Mercedes: I didn't get the part.

From Sam: Why? What happened

From Mercedes: Well, you know how I absolutely slayed the song against Berry?

Sam: Yeah totally

Mercedes: They wanted us to split the part because no one is able to actually tell it to Berry's face that someone was better than her. Like… uh hell to the no.

Sam: wait what? I'm confused

Mercedes: the directors wanted me and Rachel to split the part, double cast it, and I said no.

Sam: Why you say no

Mercedes: Because I was better than her.

Sam: So… why not split the part

Mercedes: I thought you would support me, and try to cheer me up when Rachel freakin' Berry get everything and I'm tossed aside once again.

Sam: Babe of course I support you

Mercedes: Then why are you telling me I should have taken the part? Anyways, I have to go see you tomorrow.

Oh well.

He's not smart. He's not talented. He's not good anything. So why should he be good a maintaining a good relationship. He placed the piece of yellow paper scribbled with a love note on top of the box covering the piece of cheesecake. Sam walked upstairs knowing Kurt will find it. After a copious amount of minutes brushed by, Sam hears the front door squealing open, and people cooing and aweing.

"Oh my god," Kurt breathed. "Blaine is the best boyfriend ever."

Rachel replied, "I wish Finn was this sweet."

Blaine is perfect. Perfect voice. Perfect grades. Perfect relationship. Perfect friend. Perfect.

October 17th 2012

Blaine sat lonesome in the back of the choir room waiting for the others to plug up the room. He watched the clock above the piano tick down until the end of school. Today was the first rehearsal of their sectionals routine, and Mr. Shue was not attending half of it. Yay. Blaine had the plan to keep his mouth shut anytime Finn does or says anything. If Blaine has a suggestion, he decided not to announce it. Blaine fiddles around with his phone. He checks Facebook and Instagram. Someone clacks into the room.

"Whoa," they say. "What happened to you?"

Blaine looks up, and his heart slams itself into his chest hard and fast. Blaine stammers, "I uh, I got slushied."

"Oh," Puck says. "I haven't seen you without gel in a long time."

"Y-yeah." Puck takes a step back, and Blaine knows that his face is one full of panic. Actually, his whole body is eaten by panic.

"I'm sorry," Puck says. "Should I go, and I'll come back when other people are here?"

A deep breath expands Blaine's chest like a soccer ball being pumped with air. There will be no punches, kick, slurs, slaps, rain, yelling. Blaine knows this, but he can't shake the feeling of ghosted rain drops upon his skin. Or the fact that the room is slowly dimming into a dark sky twinkling with stars smiling at him with malice. His chest and erratic heart start collapsing. He'll be fine. He just needs to breath.

"No," Blaine wheezes out. "Can you grab my inhaler from my bag? Please?"

Puck scrambles up to Blaine's chair, and spits out, "Yes, dude, of course. I didn't know you had asthma."

"I got diagnosed the night my sister told me she's joining the army."

"Ah," Puck says un-zipping Blaine's backpack, and grabbing the inhaler to hold up to Blaine's expecting hand. Cradling the other hand onto his chest, Blaine uses the inhaler. One shaky breath. Two shaky breathes. He's breathing better. It was only his second use of the inhaler. Doctor says you'll get use to over time, but he also said that about his nightmares. People lie.

"Thanks," Blaine says.

"No problem," Puck says staring at the ground as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. After coughing down the frog sitting in his throat, Puck says softly, "Blaine, I want you to know that one of my biggest regrets in life is doing what I did to you. I was just a scared child, and I know that doesn't consent anything, but I was just really, really scared. And I'm not asking for forgiveness because that would be a stupid idea, but do you, like, hate me?"

"No," Blaine says. "No, I don't hate you, Noah, I hate what you've done, and the actions that you've carried. You've caused a lot of pain in my life, but I do not hate you. We're not friends, but were not enemies either. For now let's just be understanding people."

"Okay," he says hushed.

The bell rings, and Puck scrambles away from Blaine to the opposite side of the room like a bird seeing a car. A gasp from the doorway rings across the room. Kurt runs up to Blaine firing questions out of mouth like a gun.

"Are you okay?"

"Why are you wearing this sweater?"

"Where's your gel?"

"Did you get slushied?"

"Do you want to go home?"

Blaine just shakes his head; he's fine. Puck gives a sad smile at the two eyes glistening, and it doesn't blow past Blaine. Funny, it could have been Puck worrying about Blaine being slushied instead of being worried about whether or not he should get remotely close to Blaine. Blaine returns the sad smile and ignores Puck, as the room pools up with people. No one seems to notice the way Puck's smile cried.

October 19th 2012

It was days like this. Days exactly like this. Ones where nothing on the roller-coaster of life went up. It was like that big drop at the beginning of the ride to really get things going. Except you don't get to go up after. On days like this Blaine wants his sister. He wants her here so bad that his chest physically aches with want, but she was gone. Her arms couldn't sooth the fact that he got slushied, yelled at during glee, ditched by his boyfriend. He can have the thought of her ghosted arms around him, but that was it. It was only a thought. She was the only person in her family that actually give a good thought towards him.

When he crawls up the stairs with a hunched back, and eyes lowered to face the floor, Blaine tries to call Cooper. Once one call rings through, he tries again. He tries again. And again. And again. He tries until the rings lull him into a sleep. The last hollers of his phone die down, and Blaine falls asleep with a saddened expression trying to avoid the hurt of his brother's avoidance.

October 2nd 2012

"Blaine?" Raye asked with worry dripping off her face. He hums out a reply piling another box into his sore arms, and heading off towards the basement. "Blaine, can we stop for a moment. I have to leave in six hours, and we need a proper goodbye."

"No," Blaine says sharply dropping off the box, and already heading upstairs.

She sighs, "Please? This is going to be a lot worse if we don't get a goodbye."

Blaine stops midway up the hard wood step, and turns around face crestfallen. Raye steps on the stairs stopping on the one below Blaine. "I'm sorry," he says voice sounding like it was in the distance; somewhere far away. "I just-I just don't know what I'm going to do without you."

Her lips barley lift into a sad smile. Raye replies, "You'll do what you're doing already."

"Be passive aggressive?" He says.

She huffs out a small wet laugh, and continues, "No, silly, you'll keep being an amazing person, a kick ass singer, a fantastic boyfriend who's always there for his boyfriend and my brother."

"That's not what I'm talking about," he sighs turning around slow. Raye puts her hand atop his shoulder.

"I know," she says. "But your strong, Blaine. You have courage, friends and a boyfriend who will always be there for you. If you have a bad day, I'm not your only outlet."

"I just," His voice grows tight alongside his throat that's clumping. "I just wish you wouldn't leave me."

"That's not fair," She replies retracting her hand from his shoulder as if it burned her.

"I know," He sighs. "But what am I supposed to do when I need a hug at the end of a long day, or someone to be there for me when dad-" he stops.

"When dad what" she asked.

"It doesn't matter. I just need someone there for me."

Blaine starts walking up the stairs, and he stop when he reached the main level. Grabbed by Raye's hand, Blaine was turned around and pulled into an oh so familiar hug.

"Blaine, you have so many people that are willing to be there for you."

"Who?" he asks sharply.

"You have Kurt and his family, your Warbler friends, your McKinley friends and Cooper."

Blaine huffs out a laugh that screams anything but amusement. He replies, "I don't think Cooper really counts."

"Okay," she says. "Cooper doesn't count, but you have to give people the chance to be there for you."

"Okay." Just like ice Blaine melts into his sisters arms resting his head on her shoulder. "You know, there is a positive in this."

"What?" She asks. Holding most of her brothers weight, Raye smiles into his hair.

He leans back looking away playfully, and chimes, "Oh, I finally get the music room I wanted."

"Only if you ever stop playing your guitar for once to finish clearing out my room."

"Whatever, I'm cleaning it out now aren't I?," Blaine grumbles heading up to the stairs. After tumbling up the steps, he turns around, and whispered, "I'm going to miss you so much."

Standing at the bottom of the snow carpeted stairs, Raye replies, "Me too little bro. me too."

October 19th 2012

Who was there for him? Himself? Great. Blaine laid back on the bed allowing the thick blankets swallow him; he hopes that they will swallow his thoughts as well. If only Sam wasn't mad at him. He would have been there for him. Always. A buzz next to his head catches his attention. He grabs his phone, and a text from Kurt read: I'm sorry… I know we had plans, but Rachel had an emergency. Are we okay? I'll make it up to you?

Blaine types back: We're fine. Diner Friday?

Kurt: Oh! I can't Friday, but Saturday works for me. How about you?

Blaine types back: that's fine.

October 25th 2012

Sam more often than not walks into a house that is completely silent. More often than not there's no cars in the driveway, and his footsteps are the only sound that's there. Who knew that Hummel-Hudson's were such a busy family? Kurt always shopping, helping out at the garage or over at Blaine's house. Finn was… Finn was always at different place every night. Carole and Burt both work until 6:00, so when Sam get back from football practice at 5:00 the house is completely silent. Once in a while Kurt or Finn will make an appearance, but their usually back around 6:00 as well. Today, Sam walks in the house a little startled when he hears some rummaging in the kitchen.

"Kurt?" He calls out. "Finn? Are you guys here."

No one answers. He stalks into the kitchen. When it wasn't Kurt in there baking cake, but Blaine Anderson holding up a laptop, Sam jumps fifty feet in the air.

"Hello," Blaine says.

Sam grumbles, "How did you get in here?"

"Ugh," Blaine says. "Kurt may have given me a key when we first started dating. I can't seem to remember why-"

Sam cut Blaine firing words out faster than a bullet, "Why are you here?"

"Oh! I just wanted to give you this," Blaine hesitantly says, and hands the laptop over to Sam.

"Okay," Sam mumbles not looking at Blaine. "Can you leave now?"

"Yeah, of course just…" Blaine looks down at the floor. "Just can you please watch what's on there, please?"

"Sure." Sam listens to the pad of Blaine feet scuffing into the living room, and the scream of the door shutting. Holding the laptop, Sam walks into the living. He plops himself on the couch, and opens up the laptop. On the screen was the opening to a video, and Sam clicks the play button. Two puppets pop up. One had brown hair and the other blonde. Their string hair was barely holding onto the head, and the stitching on them was thick and erratic.

"Hello," the brunette one said. The voice was Blaine. "I know you'd never listen to the real me, so I decided I would have to communicate with you through puppets. I also had thought they would bring a lighter tone to the message."

Sam finds himself smiling brighter than the sun.

The blonde one starts talking its Blaine again, but the pitch of his voice increased immensely, "I'm going to crack one joke before we start. What does the little corn say to the momma corn? Where's pop corn?"

Sam laughs.

The brunette one start talking again, "I know you don't think your perfect Sam, and I know you want to be, but it's kind of hard to achieve perfect when no one's ever done it before. Everyone is perfectly imperfect in their own ways, and that applies to you. You may not be the smartest, the best singer or the best dancer. But you have the biggest heart I know, Sam. You're the best friend I've ever had, and you always amaze me with your kindness. I also have other people who would agree with me."

Sam's smile drops, and his eyebrows crunch together. Mercedes on the screen, and she says, "Sam, I know I can be a little frustrated at you sometimes, but you are the best boyfriend I've ever had, and the best one I could ask for. You're always here for me when I need you. You offer advice that I need to hear. You're completely gorgeous as well. Your one of the best people I have ever met. Your kind, caring, selfless. The way you volunteer your time to coach those kids is just one of the things you do that shows how amazing you are. I love you Sam Evans. You're amazing."

Kurt, Finn, Santana, Britany, Mike, Tina and Artie all say something similar to Mercedes. It ends off with just the brunette puppet on the screen. It says, "I know you're probably not going to forgive me, Sam, but I would really like it if we could talk again. I want to be there for you. I want to be able to remind you of how perfectly imperfect you are. I love you Sam, in a heterosexual way, and whether or not this applies to you, you are my best friend and always will be."

The screen melts into a black color, and tears are running over Sam's cheeks. He gets up, and yanks his phone off of the glass coffee table. He types: hey.

His phone buzzes, and Blane types back: hey, did you watch it?

Sam types: Yeah thank you I needed that but I'm not ready to forgive you tho

Blaine types: I kind of figured.

Sam types: thanks tho Blaine

Blaine types: of course.

April 5th 2012

Someone was always hovering behind his back. Sam wasn't allowed to be alone. When he would turn around, there were always these eyes following him. Watching, waiting as if expecting him to drop down to his knees, and shove his fingers down his throat at any moment. Of course he hadn't done it since Blaine told his parent, but that defeats the point. Sam has no freedom because of Blaine. Sam has to talk to a therapist because of Blaine. Sam's parent act different around him because of Blaine. Sam is healthy because of Blaine. At least, that's what people keep telling him; if fat is healthy.

Knowing that he should forgive Blaine at some point, Sam finds it hard to ignore that broken promise between the two of them. Maybe he should tell someone about Blaine's abusive parent. Looking at the eyes looking at him from across the room, Sam decides not to. He just stares at the thirty-eight missed calls and the hundreds of texts from Blaine all un-opened. The texts are getting harder to ignore because their becoming less and less. The time in between the texts was growing. Blaine was moving on. Sam was going to as well. Maybe that was for best. They both hurt each other. If something is forgotten, then it never really happened. Right?

A hand touches Sam's shoulder where he sat atop the couch. His mother says softly, "We have to leave for your appointment okay Sam?"

"Yeah, sure," He grumbles. When they pile into the car, Sam can't seem to think about anything other than this is all Blaine's fault.


End file.
